


Your Way

by iamavacado



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boyfriends, Bruising, Coming down from a panic attack, Confrontation, Dating, Flowers, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Platonic Analogical - Freeform, Protective Roman, Shoving, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers, Sweeney Todd - Freeform, ace!Patton, ace!logan, business major logan, counselor Patton, held back confessions, male friendships, mention of falling, new roommate, passive aggression, platonic moriality, pushing, shownight, theatre major roman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamavacado/pseuds/iamavacado
Summary: Step one, get to dorm. Step two, meet roommate. Step three...fall in love?





	1. Roomie

**Author's Note:**

> This will have at least 4 chapters, so here we go!!!!!

Cozy wasn't the word.

Yes, it was small, but not too small. One bed tucked into the right corner and one tucked into the left with a small nightstand next to each. A joint desk that stretched against most of the far wall under a window. Two compact dressers; did they expect him not to need room for clothes? At least it was big enough to put a TV on it if he wanted to. Back to back was a kitchenette, and then the door to what Logan presumed to be the bathroom.

The walls were bare, the floor was an ugly green, and the soundproofing was not that great, seeing as he could hear two people in the next room arguing over who gets what bed.

Thankfully, that was an argument that Logan didn't have to go through, seeing as the choice was made for him. A sizeable pile of clothes was sitting on top of the bed in the right corner, closest to the door. A half opened and empty suitcase was next to it. His roommate had already been in here and claimed a bed.

Logan hummed. It was missing that same charm and familial vibe that made a room cozy. It was more snug. Just a tad more uncomfortable than cozy.

Logan wheeled his suitcase in and set it next to the free bed, swinging his bag from off his shoulder and slinging it onto the bed as well. He sat down on top of the mattress and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The air was a little stale, but hopefully that would change once the room became more lived in.

Step one: get to dorm. Check.

Part of him wanted to start unpacking right away and get things settled, but the other part of him just wanted to take a nap. But he knew that he would probably end up doing neither, so he opted for going into the kitchenette and making himself something to eat. He didn't have much available, so he just pulled out a noodle cup from his duffel bag and stuck it in the microwave and ate it at the counter.

As he finished, he turned around from the trash can to see a person bursting through his door and sashaying into the room. It was a man roughly the same height as Logan, and he bounded over to the pile on the bed that had already been occupied when Logan came in. He was singing a song in a loud bellowing voice.

“I want adventure in the great wide somewhere!” He was digging around in his clothes pile, then his suitcase as he sung. He didn't even seem to notice that Logan was there. 

So Logan cleared his throat and stepped forward near him. He tapped him on his shoulder, and started to say, “Hello, my name is Logan. We seem to be roommates.”

However, he barely got through the “hello” part of his greeting before the man turned around, wide eyed. Upon seeing Logan, he grinned. He stopped singing. “Well, hello!” he exclaimed. “My roomie huh? Nice to meet you, Specs.”

Logan internally sighed, and he pursed his lips the smallest bit. The man probably meant it as a term of friendly endearment, but it was still slightly annoying. Logan had outgrown a similar nickname during grade school. Something about him having multiple eyes. 

But, he didn't want to seem too uptight (as his longtime friend, Virgil, warned him about), so he covered it with a smile. “Yes, nice to meet you too.” He stuck out his hand. “My name is--”

The man barely glanced down at Logans hand before throwing his arms around him in a tight and sudden hug. “Great to be rooming with you! My name is Roman Loman, which I hate, because it rhymes, but--” he pulled back from the hug, but his hands were still holding Logan by the upper arm-- “just call me Roman.” He slapped Logan's shoulder and turned back to his pile. “What's your major?”

Logan was struck speechless for a few seconds. He blinked a few times, then swallowed, and stuttered out, “Uh..it’s uh...Business.”

Roman made a noise of exclaim, then spun around again. This time he had a sweater in his hand. It was blue and white. “How bout it! My _minor_ is business! How cool is that?”

Logan chuckled nervously, adjusting his glasses. “Well, they do pair dorm mates by major and minor.”

Roman poked Logan's chest as if he had revealed the cure to something. “You. are so. _Right._ You're so smart.”

Logan did something between a smile and a grimace, because he couldn't quite dissect whether or not that last comment was sarcastic or not. Regardless, he said, “Thanks.” Roman scampered into the kitchen and opened the cupboard, pulling out a bag of chips. Logan didn't know he had already brought food and stocked the cabinets. He would've started labelling who got what cabinet already if he had known.

Roman tore open the bag of chips and shoved some into his mouth. “God,” he said amid mouthfuls, “I haven't eaten all day. First days, right?” He didn't even wait for a response before throwing the sweater onto his shoulder and chomping down on half the bag. He folded it up and started to walk out.

Virgil's advice rang through Logan's head like a shove to his back. _This would be impossible to follow if it were me, but you're better at this than I am: make friends. Having me as your only friend is fine here, but I won't be with you all the time at college. Make friends. You'll need them if you want to stay sane._

Roman was almost out of the door when Logan reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around. His eyes were expectant.

Logan swallowed, desperately trying to think of a conversation topic. After a moment, he blurt out, “You...said your minor was business, what's your major?”

“My major?” Roman wiped his mouth of miscellaneous chip crumbs before smiling. “Theatre!”

If Logan didn't already know that it was physically possible, he would've said that his heart actually stopped in his chest. His mouth fell open slightly. Oh, dear stars. A _theatre_ major. “Really?”

Roman nodded. “Yep!” He paused long enough to answer his vibrating phone, and then he looked back up. “Listen Specs, I gotta go. I know this first meeting of ours hasn't been very fantastical, but I'll make it up to you, yeah?” He slapped Logan's shoulder, then ran down the hall, turning the corner out of sight.

Logan was left standing there near the doorway, realizing he hadn't actually told Roman his name.

Step two, meet roommate: ...check?


	2. Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wop

“A theatre major, Virgil. I cannot do this.”

Logan was in his dorm after his first class. Roman didn't come back for another 20 minutes (as he had so gracefully forgotten his schedule on the kitchen counter), so he decided to call Virgil and explain his feelings while he had a free time frame. Because, for some reason, he really only could get a grasp of them when he spoke to his friend.

“What's so wrong with him being a theatre major if he's minoring in business? Isn't that what you wanted?” asked Virgil from the other end of the line.

Logan went over to and sat on his bed. He still hadn't unpacked. “What I wanted was a roommate who just...was quiet! And this one _won't_ be quiet. All he's done so far is sing and talk _very_ loudly, and way too quickly. How am I supposed to efficiently study for my classes and earn my degree if I keep having to hear him sing all the time?”

There was a pause. “How long did you talk to him?”

“All of 20 seconds,” Logan said after he sighed.

“Well then how are you supposed to get a good gauge of what kind of a person he is?” Virgil's voice was gentle. He sounded tired, but then again, he always did.

“First impressions can be a wonderful tool.”

“Logan…”

Logan stood up, aggravated, and started to pace the room. It wasn't towards Virgil. It was towards...he didn't know. Himself? “My entire life has lead up to this. I have been diligent, and disciplined, and dedicated--”

Virgil interrupted, “And even adjectives that _don't_ start with D.”

“Virgil, I'm serious. Everything has to be perfect. I've planned it all to the T. You saw my notebooks!” He gestured to his duffle bag pocket filled with his itinerary notebooks, even though Virgil couldn't see him do that.

“I saw your notebooks Logan, I know. But that's what I've been trying to tell you.” There was sounds of shuffling. Perhaps he'd sat up from lying down. “You can't plan everything out. Life isn't a game you can look over and manage from the third person point of view.”

“But I--”

“Things aren't going to, and _can't,_ always go your way Logan. You have to make the best of it. And if you're _that_ worried about your future, I'm sure it'll turn out fine.”

Logan stopped pacing, and he noticed that he had started breathing a little heavily. He tried to get that under control by going in through the nose and out through the mouth. “You know,” he said, “I say this same stuff to you…”

“And it never works, I know. But I'm not you.” There was a pause, and then, in a low voice, “You actually fall for this sort of crap.”

They chuckled.

“But, for real,” Virgil continued. “I think it'll be okay. Who knows? You may become friends.”

Logan scoffed louder than he meant to. “I doubt that'll happen.”

Virgil sighed. “Listen, if you really can't room with him, then maybe the HR rep can help you get a new room.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had to do it once. My roomie woke me up every single night because he was scared of the dark. Nice guy, valid fear, but I couldn't ever sleep. So, I got a new room, and he got therapy.”

Logan looked off into the distance, small smile on his face. “You are a genius.”

“That has never been true.” Another shared laugh. “Still, I think you should give it a shot.”

“I gave it a shot when I tried to introduce myself and barely got two words in. I will not disrespect my notebooks any longer.”

He hung up just as Roman came through the door.

“Hey Specs!” he said happily, waving. He had a small paperback book in his hand as he did so. “How was your first day?”

Logan was surprised that Roman asked how he was doing. So taken aback, in fact, that all he could manage was a quiet, “Fine. You?”

Roman put a hand to his forehead dramatically. “I'm absolutely dead. Got my script for Sweeney Todd, got my first homework assignment, and I lost my schedule.”

Logan pointed to the counter. “I think it's there.”

Roman looked over, and his eyes got so wide you'd think someone bought him a puppy. “It is!” He ran over to it, grabbing it gratefully and sliding it into his pocket. “Not quite done with the day yet. It'd be nice to have this.”

“Indeed.”

Roman went over to his pile, mumbling something about unpacking properly. When he got there, he said, with his back turned, “You're Logan, right?”

Logan blinked. “Um, ye-yes? How did you…?”

“I saw your suitcase.” Logan looked over and glanced at his suitcase. His name was written on it in big block letters with a silver sharpie. “Hard to miss,” Roman added humorously. He turned around with a tank top in hand. 

“Yes, I'm Logan,” was all Logan could say.

Roman scoffed. “Don't be such a robot, Specs. Though the tie does help.” He then slipped off his long sleeved shirt and put the tank top on instead. Logan tried not to stare. “It was hot as hell out there. Not taking another chance.”

Logan nodded, and the inkling popped into his head that maybe having Roman as a roommate wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then on the way out, Roman started singing Moana, and Logan was once again resolute in his decision to get out of this.


	3. A Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did i say four? I mean 3 and 1/4.

“Hello, I'd like to inquire about a new room?” He slid his ID across the counter, and the HR rep grabbed it with a hand that was nearly covered by an oversized sweater sleeve.

“Mr. Logan McCann. Is that right?” He asked. Logan nodded as he peered at the ID picture. His brown hair fell down in front of his glasses, and he swiped it out of the way. As he typed something into a computer, he asked, “It might be a squeeze to get you into a room thats available, but I think I could get something together.” He paused. “Your roommate probably wouldn't have your major or minor though.”

Logan had his hands clasped nervously on the counter. “That's not an issue,” he said.

The HR rep slid the card back, and put his palms flat on the counter. “Now, before I go and do all the boring stuff, can I ask you why you want a new room?”

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn't want to say the real reason out loud. Because out loud, it sounded silly and petty. But to Logan, it was something serious. Having to live with someone that boisterous and loud and that talks so fast and frantically...he couldn't do it. It was quite literally something he told Virgil would be the worse case scenario. Because he was quiet by nature. He read books and watched stars and slept in silence. He couldn't live with a theatre major. A theatre major with a minor in a business. Which meant that he would even be in some of Logan's classes.

Logan shivered just thinking about it.

“Is the room too small?” pressed the HR rep. “Are you handicapped? I have an available handicap room if you are.”

“N-no, I'm not handicapped.”

The HR rep bid Logan lean in as he did too, like they were exchanging secrets. “Now I want you know, it's my job to do what I can to help you however I can. You can tell me. I promise I won't tattle on you.” He winked.

Logan stood straight up again, cautiously pondering. Maybe it would be okay to tell him the truth. He was the representative for the students, wasn't he? So who would he even tell? And he looked inviting enough: he had a sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and a dazzlingly adorable smile that felt helpful and friendly. After a few outings with him, Logan felt that he could maybe trust him. And the sweater he was wearing--way too big for him--made him appear smaller than he actually was. It had little cat emojis on it. 

And then it clicked.

And just as it clicked, the HR rep snapped his head up and yelled out with a huge grin, “Rolo!”

Logan whipped his head around and saw that Roman, his roommate, was approaching the counter. He was holding a cup of what Logan assumed to be coffee, as there was steam leaking out of the opening in the top. There was a smile on his face too as he said, “Hey Padre, come here!”

The HR rep looked at Logan, and held up a finger. “Could you just-- just excuse me for _one_ second?” Then he practically leapt over the counter and ran top speed into Roman, wrapping him in a tight hug. They both laughed as Roman warned that he had something hot in his hands.

Logan tried to make himself as invisible as possible. He edged towards the counter and tried to act as if he was studying some pamphlets, but he couldn't help looking over at the two of them talking.

Roman was a good half a head taller than the other boy. He stood straight up with his shoulders pushed backwards, but when he looked down at the rep, he didn't act condescending. If anything, his smile got wider.

The rep was a little smaller in height and build. But he opened up when he saw Roman, and he was virtually glued to him. His glasses almost fell off his face when he hugged him, and he had to take them off and wipe them clean as they talked.

“So, how's work?” asked Roman in that same extraverted voice he had greeted Logan with. Logan couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit.

“It's been fine,” replied the rep as he put his glasses back on. “Lotta standing.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling.” Then, Roman actually seemed to glance around slightly. He leaned down towards the rep, and in a softened, gentle voice, asked, “And how are _you_ doing today?”

Logan tilted his head to the side a little.

The rep faltered the slightest bit. “I've...been doing okay, I guess.”

Roman raised his eyebrows a little. A small prompt. The Rep's smile faded a little, and he looked at the ground.

“Okay, I've been a little stressed.”

Roman pat his shoulder. “That's my man. Look at you.” Then, he held up the cup. “I guessed that you've been a bit tense, because, let's face it, this whole representative...thing? You do? It can be stressful. I mean, you're dealing with _people._ One on one. That's scary.”

The rep nodded, letting out a long breath. “It makes sense when you say it like that. I felt silly.” He laughed weakly.

Roman held out the cup towards him. “Not silly at all. And besides. That's why I got you this.”

He looked at it. “Oh, is that--? that's not--”

“It's hot chocolate.” Roman winked.

The rep exclaimed happily, then took the cup, wrapping both hands around it to absorb its warmth. He took a sip. “You know me too well, Roman.”

“Well I should, shouldn't I?” He ruffled the rep's hair, said, “Catch you around tiger,” and walked away towards the gathering of couches and chairs that acted as a small lounge for students to sit.

The rep waved at Roman, then went back behind the counter, setting the hot chocolate on it. “Sorry about that, Mr. McCann. Now, let's get back it.”

Logan shook his head, staring off in the direction Roman had left before turning his attention back to the rep. “N-no, you're fine. Uh...may I...um..uh…” He stuck his thumb in the general way Roman had went. “Who was that?”

The rep looked off where he pointed. “Oh, only my best friend in the whole _world,_ Roman Loman! I call him Rolo because his name rhymes, and it's his favorite candy.” He giggled at himself.

“Yes, well, hm.” He paused, wondering if he could actually ask this. He decided he could. “If it's not intrusive, may I ask what he's like?”

The rep tilted his head to the side a little, squinting. “Why do you ask?” Then, he gasped, and leaned in, smiling. “Are you interested?”

Logan's eyes widened. “What?”

“Because I have been trying to get him a boyfriend for ages, and he just won't take to them! He says he doesn't want a theatre kid, even though that's _all_ he does, so I don't know what to do! But you look pretty cool. You even wear a tie.” Logan looked down at his tie. “Theatre kids don't wear ties. Are you a theatre kid?”

“No,” Logan said, trying to hide his offense. 

“Should I call him over?” He started to cup his hands over his mouth. “Hey Rolo!”

“N-no! No. Nope. That's not...no.” He looked over to make sure Roman hadn't heard. When he looked back, he said, “He's...uh... He's my... Roommate.”

The rep gasped happily. “Well aren't you the luckiest guy on campus! Roman is fantastic.”

Logan leaned forward ever so slightly. “Can you tell me what he's like? As a...a student?”

The rep slapped his palms on the table. “Well!” He started talking, quite quickly. “He's just about the greatest person you'd ever meet. Great singer, great dancer, great actor, great _person._ He's an 11/10.”

“Is he studious?”

“Oh, yeah! He's not really one for unnecessary schoolwork, but once he finds something he's passionate about, he gives it his all. Sometimes a lil’ _too_ much!” He paused, and smiling, he said, “When I mentioned one day that I was sad, he decorated my entire room with cats and dogs stuff.” He looked down at his sweater, flapping the sleeves. “And then he made me this sweater!”

“Huh.”

“Yeah! He's thoughtful, and lovely, and great, and funny, and sweet, and lovely, and I'm running out of things to say--”

“But he's a good student?”

“Super good! Unless he doesn't care about it.”

“Does he care about business?”

The rep pondered for a second, looking up at the ceiling. “Not really. He's majoring in theatre, so that's where a lot of his focus goes. But the only reason he's _in_ business is because he wants to open up his own theatre company.”

Logan was struck a little speechless at that. His own company. “Oh.”

“Yeah, it's his dream, so he's definitely going to give it his all.”

“Interesting.” Logan looked over his shoulder and saw that Roman was still sitting in the lounge, cross legged, hunched over a book. It wasn't the script he had earlier. It was a textbook. And he was reading it the same way Logan read: with furrowed brows and focused eyes. Every now and then he'd pause and write something in a notebook he had with him.

“He can be a little much sometimes,” the rep continued, “but he's the best person I know. He's loud and out there, but he's actually pretty quiet when you get to know him. It's a part of him tries to hide,” he whispered. “But lucky for you, you'll get to see his true self. But he'd never admit to being nerdy. That's how he is.” The rep laughed a bit, then paused, and, with a realization, said, “But, oh wait. If you get a new room, you won't be able to room with him.” He kind of pouted a little, and seemed genuinely disappointed on his friend's behalf.

“Um...well…?” He looked back over at Roman, then at the rep, then the counter. He saw his arms, crossed over his chest. He knew his lips were pursed in a tight line. All in all, he felt he was being very closed off, and it all became painfully obvious how often he presented himself this way.

Maybe he could use someone who wasn't exactly like him. Maybe it would do him some good to make a friend that was just a little eccentric. I mean, he was friends with Virgil. But Virgil wasn't around now. He was three states away.

 _Give it a shot,_ he heard Virgil saying.

Logan took in a deep breath, and uncrossed his arms. He smiled. “You know what? My room is fine. I think I'm good where I am.”

“Are you sure?” He started to type in the computer again. “I can find something for you.”

“I am absolutely sure.” Logan nodded. “I'm sorry to bother you.”

The rep waved his hand. “Oh, no bother at all. I'm here to help! I'm here every day from 4-8, but if you ever really need to talk to me, here's my card.” He pulled out a card from a small container on his side and slid it across the counter for Logan. “It's got my phone and my email. I also double as a counselor, so if you want to talk, and I'm not at this counter, just ask for Patton.”

Logan looked at the card. Patton Callihan. He put it in his pocket. “Patton. Thank you.” He started to walk away, but then turned around and asked, “Do you happen to have a pair of earmuffs? I may need them.”


	4. Maybe

When Logan came back from his night class, the dorm was quiet. A lamp was on at one of the desks, and he saw Roman sitting at it, hunched over a few open books and notebooks. A pencil rolled onto the floor when he walked in.

Logan tilted his head to the side a little, and came up on him. “Roman?” he asked. There was no answer. When he looked closer, he saw that Roman was actually asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest and small amount of drool falling out of his open mouth indicated he'd been here a little while. A pen was clasped loosely in his hand, and his head was resting on a book that seemed to actually be a script. But next to it was a textbook open on a chapter called “The Theory of Playing the Sadness.” It was an improvisation technique around crying.

He shook Roman’s shoulder a little. “Roman?” he said a little louder. He stirred the slightest bit, and Logan shook a little harder. “Maybe you should sleep in bed.”

“...mmf..?” Roman lifted his head, and, disgusted, wiped the drool off his mouth. He stretched his back, which was no doubt stiff. “Oh, goodness, what…” he looked up at Logan groggily. “What time is it?”

Logan checked his watch. “Almost 11.”

Roman laughed, tired. “Oh, well, that's early.” He stood up, unsteady on his feet. “But, I do have a morning class.” He pat Logan's shoulder, and it was with the same softness that he had used with Patton earlier. “Thanks Specs.” A few steps later, he went over to and flopped on his bed. He didn't even bother to cover up. Within minutes, he was asleep.

While Roman was falling alseep, Logan took the time to close his books, marking each page with a peice of paper before stacking them up in a pile near his bag. He sensed that Roman was one to get up late and rush through the morning, so maybe this small gesture would make up for the things Logan said about him behind his back.

A shower, pajamas, and a chapter of _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_ later, he was in bed, settled for sleep. He looked over at Roman. Then down at his book. His phone vibrated, and he saw that it was a text from Virgil.

**_Did you get what you wanted?_ **

Logan paused, glancing at Roman one more time before texting back:

**_Not exactly, but I think this will work._ **


	5. Specs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have milked this nickname thing. You'll see.

“Is the professor late?”

Logan slid into his seat next to Roman, pulling a notebook, a folder, and his textbook out of his bag before pushing it under his chair. Surprisingly, the only class that they had overlap in was Intro to Business, so they opted to sit next to each other. One, because Logan was still trying to warm up to this kid who might as well be a disney prince--he knew every single song from the anthology by heart (and was not afraid to demonstrate this ability). And two, because he was more introverted than not, and having to possibly partner with someone he didn't know at _all_ for something was a looming possibility. But at least he was familiar with Roman.

There was no one at the front of the room when Logan entered. The previous days, Dr. Picani would be standing ready to teach even if Logan was the first one inside. He would be there with his name already written on the board with a careful script. But today, it was blank.

Roman moved his bag from Logan's part of the desk to give him room; he'd been saving his seat. “He had an emergency with his dog.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Injured?”

“Lonely.” Roman winked on behalf of Dr. Picani, trying to imitate is perky, upbeat voice, “'But don't tell my boss that!’ But he's on his way.”

Logan half smiled. Of course Dr. Picani would do something like that. “Hey Specs,” Roman started, “do you have last week's assignment with you?”

Logan adjusted his glasses, turning his head pointedly away. He folded his hands in front of him.

“Specs?”

“I'm not dignifying you with a response,” replied Logan. “Address me properly.”

Roman sighed, falling back in his seat. “You are such a nerd. Come on.” He tapped Logan. No answer. “Specs.” Nothing. Roman groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine! _Logan,”_ he said finally, with an exaggerated regal voice. “Your highness!”

Logan turned back, smirking. He unfolded his hands. “Yes Roman?”

He sat back up straight. “Do you have last week's assignment with you?”

Logan made direct eye contact with Roman, and, without ever breaking it, opened his folder. The assignment was sitting on the very top, slid into the pocket. He pulled it out and held it next to his face. Every question had a paragraph’s worth of an answer next to it. “I am offended you even had to ask.”

“And _I'm_ supposed to be the dramatic one?” He reached into his bag and pulled out his assignment, which was sitting loosely in the outside pocket. When he set it on the table, Logan saw that it was blank. “Thanks.” He reached for Logan's assignment, and Logan pulled it back, holding it up above his head.

“What exactly do you think you're doing?” Logan asked. He put the paper face down on the table. He tilted his head to the side, feigning shock. He put his hand to his chest, and let his mouth fall open. Actually, he was mimicking something Roman would do when Patton would accidentally make an insulting pun towards him.

Speaking of Patton, Roman had kept his promise of making it up Logan for not giving them a proper meeting. He took Logan, himself, and Patton to dinner, and paid for it too. Logan offered to cover even the tip, but Roman insisted.

“I'm already in debt anyway, this won't hurt me that much,” he said, putting a 20 on the counter for the waitress.

Logan and Patton had actually become friends a bit. This was mostly due to Patton's complete openness to getting to know other people, and absolute acceptance of anyone who was willing to accept him.

“Because some people don't want to accept me sometimes,” said Patton.

“I've offered to beat them up for him,” interjected Roman. Patton shook his head. “He won't give me names.”

Logan had been sipping water, but he put his glass down. “Why wouldn't they accept you, if you don't mind me asking?”

Patton looked up at Roman, and they exchanged a look that Logan couldn't quite decipher. After a moment, Roman glanced at Logan, then back at Patton. He nodded ever so slightly.

“Okay, well.” Patton turned back to Logan, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. He really seemed to like it, and Logan couldn't blame him, since it did look quite comfortable. “I just so happen to be asexual.”

“Huh.” Logan looked down at his plate of food, half eaten. “That's interesting, isn't it?” He looked back up, and he could see that Patton had started to look into his lap like he was embarrassed of what he just said. Roman had a comforting hand on his arm, and was looking at Logan, calculating what he thought was happening.

“Why's it interesting?” asked Roman. His voice was casual, but he caught the slight edge in his tone, which was understandable. He was just trying to protect a friend, but he didn't have to worry.

“It's interesting,” said Logan, “because I am also asexual.”

Patton snapped his head up, eyes wide. “Really?” Logan nodded, small smile on his face.

He gestured down to his socks, suddenly happy he'd decided to wear them today. When they looked down, he slid up his pants leg, and revealed his socks with the flag colors on them, going down in horizontal stripes.

“Well I'll be darned Specs, you're not as stiff as you seem,” commented Roman, marveling at them. “I need to get some rainbow ones for myself.” Logan let his pant leg fall, trying to fight that smile that was working its way onto his face.

“Where did you get those?” asked Patton excitedly. “I want some! Those are so _cute!”_

Logan took a bite of his food. “I have an extra pair if you'd like it.”

Patton gasped. “Oh, no, I couldn't.”

“Oh, of course you could. I have them at the dorm.”

There was a sound that Patton made that Logan couldn't quite decipher. It sounded like a shriek of joy, but also a dolphin mating call. Either way, it sounded like he was happy. “Thank you Logan!” Roman winked at Logan. Logan tried to wink back, but it looked more like a blink.

“It's the ace up your sleeve,” added Patton.

“Well, up my ankle,” replied Logan. 

“Was that a pun!?”

Roman comically put his head in his hands. “Oh, dear Odin, please don't give me another friend who does nothing but make puns!”

“Oh!” Logan put his hands up. “No. No, I- definitely not.” He chuckled nervously. “That was unintentional. I do not like puns.”

Patton pouted. “Come on now! Puns are fun!”

“They are indeed,” agreed Roman, reaching over and putting his arm around Patton. “They've even rubbed off on me. Heck, the other day, when I was telling Patton I met you, I called you In-spec-tor gadget.”

They all three laughed at that one.

So all in all, dinner went great. Though, when they left, Roman got all the way to his room with Logan before he realized he left his jacket at the restaurant, along with his phone and wallet, which were in the pockets.

So, he wasn't surprised that Roman would forget to do his homework, so he planned out his reaction beforehand. “Do you take me for a cheater, Roman?”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you actually expect me to facilitate your dismissive and reckless tendencies?” asked Logan. “I am extremely, _extremely_ offended, Mr. Loman.”

“Oh come _on_ Star Bore, just this once! I promise.” Upon Logan's ignoring of Roman, he rolled his eyes. Afterwards, he leaned in and said quietly, “Listen, rehearsal ran late. Playing a barber who doubles as a serial killer has its perks, but it also means that there's a lot more--” he used air quotes-- “'one on one’ meetings with the director. And the director, whoof.” He waved a hand on front of his face as if it was hot. “They are a handful. Lovely person. Dedicated to their craft. But they can be quite...intense.”

“Intense? Lovely? A handful?” Logan scoffed, sliding his assignment into his folder. “Are you sure you aren't describing yourself?”

Roman blinked. “You think I'm lovely?”

“I _think_ you're a handful.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Logaaaaan,” Roman whined. He reached forward and poked Logan in the arm. He kept doing it, each poke going in time with each word he said. “Please, please, Logan, please, Please, pretty, please, Logan, Logan, Lo, Gan, Please--”

Logan swatted his hand away. “Roman, you are a grown man. Not a toddler. Leave me alone. Do your assignment yourself while you have time.”

“If you think being 22 is a grown man, then you have some evaluating to do.”

Logan just ignored him, and pulled out an old looking book. He started to read despite Roman’s insistent pokes and calls. Eventually, Roman realized that this tactic would probably not be the one to use against someone like Logan.

But then he got an idea.

“Okay, Specs,” said Roman slowly, sitting straighter up in his seat. “I have a deal for you.”

Logan barely acknowledged him. “Hm?”

He spoke clearly, slowly, and smugly. He knew it was an offer that couldn't be refused. “If you let me copy your assignments when I miss them because of rehearsal, then I will, here and henceforth, forever and always…” he paused for dramatic effect. “...stop calling you specs for the rest of your life.”

Logan whipped his head up from his book. He gave Roman the side eye. Although he knew it was failing anyway, he tried to act like he didn't care. “What does that do for me?”

“Oh, don't play coy,” said Roman. He scooted his chair closer. “I know you hate it.” Logan turned back to his book, trying to pivot his body so he wasn't facing Roman, but it didn't work that well. Roman reached over and slowly, so slowly, dog eared the page Logan was on. “Let's make a deal.”

Logan sighed, and shut his book, but not before unfolding the page and bookmarking it instead, all with a wicked glare in Roman’s direction. “So what... _exactly_...does this deal of yours entail, Mr. Loman?” He pushed his glasses back up his nose, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You'll stop calling me...what was it?” He put a hand to his ear. “I don't quite remember.”

Roman’s face fell into an annoyed one. “Specs,” he said flatly.

“That's the one, I believe,” Logan replied. “Yes, I do indeed believe so. And, may I ask what the deal was, again? For my own clarification.”

Roman threw his hands up, turning around and shoving his assignment back in his bag. “You know what? Deal's off, Mr. Smug.”

“Okay, but think,” Logan said quickly, “think about this when you get a big fat zero for this assignment.” He made a zero with his fingers.

Roman stopped shoving. Even though his back was to Logan, Logan could just see the annoyed, but defeated look upon his face. He sighed deeply, then turned around with his paper in hand. As far as Roman’s pride went, was he really willing to fail his class just to have name calling privileges over his roommate--or, dare he say it--acquaintance? That was even worse. 

Because, even though the fact that Logan despised the nickname was a satisfied piece of advantage, Logan definitely had more leverage.

“Sorry about the wait kids!”

Roman and Logan looked to the front of the room to see Dr. Picani walking in the door. His folder was nearly spilling over with unorganized papers, and he was wiping dog hair off his dress pants, without much success. 

“I had a little emergency, as you all know.” He winked at the class, and a couple of students laughed a bit. But then his glasses started to slide down. And when they almost fell off his face, he quickly reached up to fix them, but then he dropped his folder. “Ope! Butter fingers, haha!” He bent down to pick it all up, and another student came to help him organize it. 

Logan turned to Roman. “Think quick, Loman. What won't you call me? Just to be clear.”

Roman looked at Dr. Picani, then back at Logan, then his folder, then his own assignment. He made a noise between a growl and a groan. 

“Just to be clear,” Logan repeated. He was smiling, self satisfied. 

Roman mirrored the smile, like he was welcoming a family member he had never met into his home. “Just to be clear,” he said politely, “I will not call you Specs.”

“Or?” Logan probed.

“Or Glasses.”

“Or?”

“Or Geek.”

_“Or?”_

“Or,” Roman said, “Or any name I have ever called you up until this point, behind your back or to your face, if you let me copy your assignments sometimes.”

“How about just _this_ assignment?”

“No!” 

Dr. Picani picked up his papers and set them on his desk, thanking the student. “Okay, everyone, I think I gave ya'll homework last week? It's been a bit, hasn't it? Enough to get it done?” Some students nodded.

“Okay, fine!” Roman caved. Then he whisper yelled, “Just this one. Hand it over!”

Logan opened his folder and handed it over. He then raised his hand. “Dr. Picani?”

“Yes?” said Dr. Picani. “Mr. McCann, right?”

Roman had started frantically copying the answers, but paused and stared at Logan with a wild look. _Do not tell me you're about to rat me out. You...snake!_

“I have my assignment with me, but I seem to have left it in the wrong folder. Could I just run to the lounge and grab it from my bag?” 

“Oh, of course! We'll wait for you Logan.”

Logan stood. “Oh, I'm sure you will Dr. Picani. Thank you.” He looked down at Roman, and whispered, almost inaudibly. “Get to it.” He smiled at Dr. Picani. “I won't be but about 2 minutes.”

Roman looked on as Logan left the room, and Dr. Picani told the students to talk amongst themselves until he got back. There was a small, open mouthed smile on his face. He was kind of stunned honestly.

No one had ever done something like _that_ for him before. “Huh,” was all he could say.

He managed to scribble down the answers in a semi legible fashion before Logan got back with a fake folder. When he sat down, Roman discreetly slid the paper to him, and he pretended to pull it out of the pocket.

“Ready to go, Dr. Picani,” said Logan. His hands were clasped in front of him, and he was smiling, but not from the exciting subject that was business. Roman smiled too.

 _Not as stiff as you seem, Specs,_ Roman thought.


	6. a month later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, foreshadowing

It was about a month later. Thanksgiving break came and went. Logan went to see Virgil and his family, Roman went around the state with Patton exploring, and all seemed well.

Roman and Logan had also become something close to what would be considered friends. Time plus an utter lack of distance equaled friendship, Logan guessed. They went on a few outings together, and Logan had to admit that, yes, he _did_ have a satisfactory time bonding with his roommate over the few things they actually _had_ in common.

Their mutual interest in business was a starting point. Logan could have talked for hours about the logistics of restaurant success in the current economy, or the possibility of dry cleaning businesses making a comeback within the next five years, or his absolute _love_ of supply and demand charts for supermarket chains, but he could tell that the 'boring’ aspects of business were not Roman’s strong suits. And that was understandable. Roman was more interested in the artistic aspect of the business: the location, the outward appearance, what do they do, what do they make, who are they for, why are they doing it, how far are you trying to reach, and things of that nature.

So they went back and forth on the different subjects relating to such things, and Logan had to admit that it was nice to voice his opinions on the font choice of local gas stations’ logos to someone who at least pretended to be interested (spoiler alert, he had some ideas for changes; the fonts they chose were _atrocious_ ). Actually, Logan was quite sure that Roman didn't understand a word of what he was saying, but he expressed interest in something that Logan was obviously passionate about, and he didn't have to. 

Logan actually commented on that near the end of their third outing. They had seen some new horror movie, and afterwards they went to Denny’s, which was the perfect place to talk for three hours about business while one ate pancakes and the other ate steak, because somehow both of those things were both on the menu.

“I have to say,” Logan said. “It's rather refreshing to find someone who will actually listen to my senseless rants. Usually the only one who will do that for me is Virgil.”

Roman nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, same here! Patton and I are each other's go to.” He waved a hand. “The _rants_ about the show's I'd do to him could last all night long. I would complain and whine and go on and on and on about everything that was going to go wrong. And, take a guess about every show.”

Logan set his glass down from where he'd taken a sip of soda. “They went fine?”

“Fine? They'd go amazingly. And Patton--bless his tiny little heart--he’d bring me flowers and my favorite candy--”

“Rolos?”

“Yeah! How'd you know?”

Logan shrugged, smiling. He picked at his food with his fork. “Something about your name. Patton told me.”

Roman chuckled, and said something about how he just hated that nickname, but something about his tone suggested that he definitely did not hate it. “Anyway,” he continued, “he’d pick me up in his car on opening night. I'd be exhausted, and so happy about the show going well that I forgot about the way I ranted to him the night before. And we'd get in the car, and we'd sit there for a second.” Roman acted out the next few sentences, painting the exact scene for Logan. “And he'd bite his lip, and he'd smile, and he'd look at me, and he'd say, 'I told you so’. Because he would always assure me that the show would go fine, but I never believed him.”

Logan laughed. “And this would happen every time?”

Roman slapped the table. “Every time!”

And it was like that. They could each express their ideas about their various interests and the other would listen, and it was fine. It was nice to have someone to talk to. 

Until the day that Roman actually forced Logan into _participating_ in one of his interests.

***

“Logan, I'm on my hands and knees here. My usual scene partner isn't here today, and I need to run my lines with someone.”

Logan sighed. He _had_ been at his desk working on next week's assignment, which he had no doubt in his mind that Roman would copy, until Roman took his spinny chair and physically spun it around with Logan still in it. When he was fully turned around, he saw that Roman was on one knee, holding his script up to Logan like a ring in a box and he was about to propose.

“Wow, you really _are_ on your hands and knees, huh?” Logan stood, and put his chair back in place. “Regardless, I can't help you. Theatre is not my scene.”

Roman stood. “Scene? Do you really use that word? What, are you in the early 2000s?”

Logan looked at the ceiling for a moment before coming to the conclusion that, “Technically, yes, since we are only in 2018 out of 3000.”

“UGH, You are such a _neeeeerrrrd!”_ Roman exclaimed while falling back and flopping into Logan's bed. “Please help me!”

Logan walked over to his bed, and stared at Roman. He was half on the bed, with his legs hanging off. He had dramatically draped his script, open, over his eyes. He was the epitome of a child who didn't get an extra slice of cake for dessert after a hearty dinner. “It is so hard to believe you made it to college sometimes,” said Logan.

“Hey!” Roman shot up. “That was rude.” He squinted up at Logan. They had a stare off of sorts, with Roman staring up at him, and Logan standing like a disappointed parent with his hands on his hips. Then, after a moment, Roman looked at the floor. “You think I'm an idiot, don't you?” he asked.

“What?”

Roman was pouting, fake sniffling. “You think I'm a big old dummy.” He crossed his arms and tried to fold into himself and make himself smaller, regardless of the fact that he was half a head taller than Logan.

“Oh.” Logan scoffed, and turned back to his desk. “You are ridiculous.”

“You hate me don't you?”

“I'm starting to,” said Logan, sliding into his seat and reassuming his previous assignment-finishing position. However, he barely had his pen in his hands before he was spun around yet again by Roman. Logan, still seated, pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “You playing the fake pity card will not work. Now if you will excuse me, I have very important work to do.”

“So do I!” Roman shot back indignantly.

Logan lowered his brows. “This…” he gestured vaguely. “...professional make believe of yours...is not important work.”

Roman’s hands made fists at his sides, and he spoke with the air of a child stomping his foot. “It's important to me!” Logan turned around once again. “Well, what's important to you? Your--” he searched for a term-- “collection of beanie babies?”

Logan had started to pick his pen up, but he let his hand just fall on the desk. “I'm...more of a rare coins guy,” he mumbled quickly as he turned around, standing from the desk. “But--” he sighed. “I guess, if it's that important to you--”

“It is--!”

He held his hand up to stop Roman from saying any more. “If it's _that_ important to you, then...I guess I shouldn't diminish it. I...I suppose I could...help you. For just...a few minutes.”

 _“YYES!”_ Roman pumped his fist in the air, and started to launch himself towards Logan, but stopped before he did so. “Can I--?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Sure Tiger.”

Roman threw his arms around Logan, squeezing tight enough to possibly cut off circulation to Logan's brain. Logan didn't hug back, but he didn't have to. When Roman pulled back, he straightened the wrinkles in Logan's shirt, adjusted his tie, and grabbed his script from his bed. “Onward!” he yelled before bounding out of the room. 

Logan sighed (being around Roman seemed to make him do that a lot more) and walked out behind him, swiping his keys as he went. Roman hadn't even bothered to take his. Or his wallet, Logan noticed; so he assumed that he'd also be buying lunch for the two of them.

Making friends seemed to be the easier thing. But humoring them (because that's what friends do, he guessed) proved to be much more difficult.

***

The air was something Logan couldn't quite describe.

They had arrived at an auditorium. There was a sizeable amount of seats, with a center cluster and two aisles on either side that separated the center and the side sets. All three columns stretched back to the wall, with the last ten or so being canopied by a top set of balcony seats that adorned the back entrance wall. 

It didn't smell stale. But it didn't smell full. It smelled the way an art room at a high school would smell: lived in, mostly empty but ever moving in its details, constantly changing its gears but never the hands of the clock. Logan took in a long breath in through his nose, admiring the way it smelled both unwelcoming and inviting at the same time.

Roman had mounted the stairs and stood center stage, holding his arms up as if beckoning Logan to behold it all. “Take it in,” he said in a loud, echoing voice. Even from the back, where Logan was, he could hear Roman clearly. No wonder he talked so loud normally; it must be second nature to him now since he did shows so often. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”

“That's not quite the word I'd use. Now, if you were talking about a brand new oak chess set...” Logan said to himself. “But yes,” he called as he walked up. “It is quite grand. But, where is everyone else?”

Roman let his hands fall, and tried for a friendly smile, but Logan saw through it as he neared the bottom of the stage.

“You don't have rehearsal today, do you?”

Roman didn't say anything.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.” He sighed. “I suppose that's better than being filled to the brim with other Roman’s.” He went up the stairs and went onstage to Roman, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights that lit everything up. “If no one's here, how did you get in?”

“I've, uh…” he sheepishly pulled out a key. “The previous director gave me one a few shows back. She knew I liked rehearsing on the stage, and 2 times a week is not enough for me. We kind of became friends, but then she went on to direct for Broadway, isn't that cool?”

“I...do have agree. That is cool.” Logan looked around. “But why exactly am I here? Can I just sit in the audience or...what?”

Roman laughed a short and fake laugh. “No. You, Logan, are going to be the Mrs. Lovett to my Sweeny Todd.” He then shoved his script in Logan's hands. “Open to the bookmarked page, and just start reading.”

Logan opened to the marked page. “Don't... Don't you need one?” He indicated the script.

“HA.” Roman put his hands on his hips, standing heroically. “I don't need one. But, that's kind of the point.” He stood regular again, motioning for Logan to start reading. “Okay, go on.”

Logan adjusted his glasses, and peered at the page. “Do I read the highlighted ones?”

“No, you read the ones in between.”

“Who is Todd?”

“Me! I'm Todd! And you're Mrs. Lovett!”

“Okay, okay.” He found a starting line, and said, in an emotionless voice, “Mrs. Lovett: So it is you-”

Roman stepped forward. “No, you don't read the name of the person speaking.” He pointed at the line itself. “You just read the line.”

“Oh, okay.”

“And give it feeling. I need to get in character.” He stepped back, and looked off into the distance, looking wistful and somber. After a moment, he looked at Logan, gazing. “Go.”

“So,” Logan said flatly, “it is you. Benjamin Barker.”

Roman appeared angry, annoyed. “Not Barker! Not Barker! Todd! Sweeney Todd!” He paused. “Where is she?”

Logan tried to play along. He put the back of his hand to his forehead. “So changed. Good God, what did they do to you down there in bloody Australia?” When Roman didn't reply, Logan looked down at the script. “Oh. Sorry.” He read the last words. “Or wherever?”

Roman chuckled at Logan's attempt, but pressed on. “Where is my wife? Where's Lucy?”

“She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apothecary on the corner. I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen to me.”

“Logan,” Roman said, breaking character. “You have to give it just a little emotion. My wife has just killed herself, and you sound like you're reciting to me an article about yarn.”

“Well I apologize that I'm not regularly involved in things like this. I've never seen someone named Mrs. Lovett. I've never met someone who poisoned themself with Arsenic.”

“That's why it's called _acting!”_ He put his face in his hands. “This is hopeless. I should've called Patton.”

Logan put a hand on his hips. “Yes, why didn't you call Patton?”

Roman looked at him for a second, then shrugged. “I don't know. You were right there, and I'm lazy by nature. Let's continue! But this time, with feeling!”

“She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apothecary on the corner. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me.”

Roman stepped forward. “And...my daughter?”

“Johanna? He's got her.” Logan started to pace the stage up and down as he read, staring intently at the page.

“He? Judge Turpin?”

Logan nodded. “Even he had a conscience tucked away, I suppose. Adopted her like his own. You could say it was good luck for her...almost.”

And they went back and forth like that for about 20 minutes. Logan paced up and down, Roman said his lines, and every now and then they'd have a small tiff arguing about Logan's delivery, but that was fine. Now, he'd never admit this to Roman, but maybe if Virgil probed him for an hour, Logan would admit that it was...an enjoyable experience. Perhaps, if he was tipsy, he'd call it fun. It was strange; how a certain person could make one enjoy something they'd normally dread.

 

But then, there was a moment, where Logan got involved a little too intensely in one of the lines he was reading, and he forgot to turn around and walk the other way.

“Logan,” Roman said, pointing at the oncoming danger. “Might want to watch where you're going, buddy.”

Logan shook his head, not taking his eyes off the book. “That isn't the line, Roman, the line--”

“I know the line, but you need to look up--”

“Do you need me to give you the line? You taught me how to do that when you say 'line’--”

And, like that was his cue, Logan took a step forward into empty air, and fell off the stage.

 _“Logan!”_ Roman ran to the side of the stage and nearly hopped down the stairs into the orchestral pit where Logan had fallen. “Are you okay?!”

He hadn't even had time to scream before he hit the ground, because truly, he didn't really know what was happening until a pile of tarps came up to greet him. 

Logan didn't answer for a few seconds, and Roman was sure he was dead. He'd fallen off the stage and landed on a a microphone and died at 10:30 in the morning. And it would have been Roman’s fault, and he'd have to leave the country because he didn't want to go to jail, and he'd never be seen in show business again. But, he could see Logan reach for his glasses that had fallen off, and breathed a sigh of relief. He rushed over. “Are you okay Logan? Did you hit your head?”

“I…don’t think so.” Logan checked his glasses, and by whatever miracle, they weren't broken. He put them on, and tried to form a coherent and dignified sentence, but gave up when he remembered that he just fell off a stage. He tried to push himself up by his arms, but groaned in pain. “I'm...thrown for a bit of a...loop, if I'm being honest.” He saw the tarps he landed on. “Why are these here?”

“They set them out before they start painting,” said Roman. “I guess... It's lucky they set them out early.”

“I'll say.” His arms would not cooperate in helping him up, so he vaguely reached for Roman. “Would you…?”

“Oh! Of course!” Roman stepped over and helped Logan into a kneeling position. Then he put his arm around Logan's waist, then put Logan's arm around his shoulders. He half carried and half led Logan to a chair in the audience, and he helped him sit. “I am so sorry Logan.”

“What are you sorry for Roman?” asked Logan. He was rubbing his elbow, which was the main thing he had landed on. “I was the one who fell.” He half chuckled. “You even warned me, didn't you? It was a foolish move of mine.”

Roman went over and grabbed his script before sitting down next to Logan. “I guess. But, are you sure you're okay?”

Logan pat various places on himself. “Well, I’ve got all four limbs. I'm not bleeding. And I can still see.” He nodded. “I'd say I'm okay.” He pointed at his pants, which were now scuffed. “Besides being a bit bruised, I'm good.”

Roman looked at the ground. He still couldn't help but feel responsible. However, he tried to hide his guilt by cracking a joke. “I wouldn't be surprised if you asked for a new roommate now.”

Logan half smiled, thinking back to the first day of the semester. “Ha. Yeah. I would never do that.”

“Really?” Roman asked, looking up at Logan. 

“Um, really, yeah. You're a good roommate.” At least the second half of that sentence was true.

Roman smiled. “Cool.”

After a moment of silence between them, with nothing but the quiet hum of the light board filling the air, Logan asked, “Can we get some lunch and go home?”

“Of course we can,” answered Roman, standing. “I wouldn't make you keep going after you've fallen off a stage. What do you take me for?”

Logan shrugged, and stood up on his own. Though his leg was a little in pain, he didn't need any more assistance. He decided to change the subject as he checked his pocket for his keys. “You know, you're quite good.”

“Hm?”

“At uh..” he gestured to the stage. “Acting. You do a good job.”

Roman blinked, and looked at the stage. Then back at Logan. He searched somewhere in Logan's face for a joke, or sarcasm, but found nothing. Roman smiled. “Well, thank you very much Logan.”

Logan smiled back.

And that was when it happened.

Logan didn't quite know what it was about that particular moment, but he felt something ignite in his chest. Maybe it was the way Roman was smiling, or the way he thought it was his fault, or maybe Logan really _had_ hit his head and he was delirious, but he felt it.

Roman turned around and went onstage to gather his things, but Logan stared on, his smile fading as the looming realization crept across him. He looked down at his chest to make sure that he was indeed still breathing, and hadn't died from the fall and went into purgatory or something. Then he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Nope. He was awake. He was on earth. He was standing there. He was watching Roman descend the stairs, and he was realizing that he might like Roman as more than a friend.

All Logan could say was a soft, “Oh no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coma coma coma chameleon


	7. Pros and cons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may seem like a filler chapter, but i think the idea of logan trying to deny his feelings through logic and completely failing (because this is a matter of the heart) is cool beans.

“So how long did it take?” Virgil asked.

Logan was pacing his dorm up and down, arms half crossed and phone to his ear. Roman was at his Improvisation class, which he was at every Wednesday, which gave Logan a free two hours to himself. It was usually during this time that he called Virgil and they had a chat, but this time, Logan had called in a panic after he and Roman got back from the auditorium. It was a block from the campus, so it wasn't a long drive, so they had time to stop for lunch.

And lunch was a fiasco. Logan could barely get two words out before falling and tripping over his sentences, which made Roman think he had a concussion, which made Logan try to dance around the fact that, no, he didn't have a concussion, he just had a crush. But it wasn't like he could let Roman _know_ that, because even Logan himself wasn't quite sure what that feeling was.

It was more denial than anything. Falling for (quite literally) his polar opposite was a very unexpected development, one that he hadn't even went over in his itinerary notebooks. It simply couldn't happen. He was supposed to fall for someone just like him: intellectual, wearing a tie, glasses would be nice too, and someone who had his same interests. He wasn't supposed to fall for….that.

And when he explained this all to Virgil on his emergency phone call, all he got was that question.

“What are you talking about?” Logan asked. 

Virgil’s voice was smug. “How long did it take?”

“How long did what take?”

“What,” Virgil answered for him, “not even a full semester?”

When it registered what Virgil was talking about, Logan sat down on his bed with a long sigh. “I don't appreciate you making jokes. This isn't good! I'm supposed to be here to study and earn a degree. Not…” he gestured wildly at Roman’s stuff in the other corner of the room. “Romp around in a meadow with some _theatre_ major.”

“I never said anything about romping in a meadow. Though that does sound romantic.” A pause. “Oh my god, is that something you've fantasized about?”

“No! Maybe!” Logan looked up at the ceiling, then barked into the phone, “I had a dream okay?!”

Virgil laughed on the other line. It sounded like he flopped on his bed or a couch before saying, “Oof. You got it bad buddy. Having dreams? Falling off a stage? _Lying_ to your professor to help him cheat? You’ve got Roman Fever.”

Logan groaned in frustration, falling back on his bed so his legs were hanging off. He covered his head with his pillow. “I don't know what to do,” he said, muffled.

Virgil tsked. “I dunno what to say man. Tell him the truth, I guess.”

“Would you do the same?” asked logan, flinging the pillow off him.

“Well, of course not, but I'm not you. I'd hide away and avoid them, you'd...I don't know, be blunt, make a pro and con list, say what's on your mind--”

Logan sat up. “Brilliant!”

“I'm glad you finally noticed.”

“No-- I mean, yes of course you're brilliant, but-- I meant the pro and con list!” Logan stood, putting the phone on speaker while he rifled through his bag and found a spare notebook and pen. “I can do that!”

“Well, that part was...more of a joke--”

“But it's perfect!” He tossed the notebook on his desk, and took the phone back and put it to his ear once again. “A physical representation of my thoughts, that's so much better than having them all…” he pointed at his head. “Swarming around in there. Thanks Virgil.”

“Uh,” Virgil stammered. “Y-yeah, sure, I definitely helped, okay.”

Logan hung up.

He slid into his spot at the desk and opened the notebook to a free page. At the top, he wrote a title.

_Pros and Cons: Liking Roman._

He made a small chart, with a line separating the two columns. On top of one, he wrote Pros, and on the other one, he wrote Cons. Then he just stared at the paper, tapping his pencil against the edge of the desk.

_Pro: he's very cute._

Logan looked at the word when he realized he wrote it. He crossed it out. Since when did he say ‘cute?’

_He's very attractive._

Okay, now for a Con.

_Con: It is unlikely he would think the same of me._

Back and forth, Logan, keep it even.

_Con: He sings all the time._

_Pro: He sings quite well._

_Con: He is very loud._

_Pro: I enjoy hearing him talk._

_Con: He takes too long in the shower._

Logan tried to think of a counter argument to this, but couldn't. Sometimes people just take too long in the shower, so he just continued on with another Pro.

_Pro: He cares about his friends._

That was very apparent. When that meeting Logan first observed between Roman and Patton occurred, Logan assumed it was a rare sight. But it wasn't. There were many a day where Logan accompanied Roman to the cafe in the basement of the campus to grab Patton a hot chocolate. Or a cookie. Or, when Roman had an extra dollar, two cookies. Sometimes Logan even pitched in and bought them all a sandwich. They met with Patton at his usual counter nearly every day, much to Patton's delight. 

So he seemed to care about his friends.

_Con: He forgets to do a lot of his assignments._

That was actually something that legitimately irked Logan. He always seemed to forget to do his business homework. He copied off of Logan, who had become his unwilling partner in crime. But whenever they had an assessment, Roman came back with near perfect scores. He wasn't sure when Roman had time to study, since he always seemed to be working on his theatre projects. Whatever the name of that show he was in was called. It actually came on in about two months, and Roman sieged some tickets for he and Patton. 

_Pro: He commits himself to his passions._

_Con: His passions don't align with mine._

Was that such a bad thing? He crossed that out. They were both interested in business, so it counted, at least halfway. Logan also wanted to open his own business, he just didn't know what kind yet. 

_Pro: He is creative._

_Con: He can become borderline delusional with his dreams._

Going back in time and marrying Troy Bolton Era Zac Efron when they were both young adults didn't seem like such a plausible ides.

_Pro: He makes me laugh._

_Con: He has diluted my sense of humor._

_Pro: He is tall._

_Con: I am also tall, but not quite tall enough, and he teases me about it constantly._

Did Logan just use the word 'teases’? That wasn't a negative word. He didn't feel like changing it though, since Roman never actually made Logan feel insecure about it. Or, anything about his appearance, really. The Specs thing was annoying, but that was probably more of just the first thing he noticed when he met Logan. And he did seem prone to nicknames anyway. There were a few times he called Patton “Specs” too, since he also wore glasses.

_Pro: I feel I can be myself around him even though we are so different._

_Con: I can do the same with Virgil, so what does that mean? I have a crush on Virgil too?_

That wasn't even a con. It was just a thought he had. He crossed it out. And it was impossible to have a crush on Virgil; they're practically brothers. But Logan and Roman…

_Pro: The name RoLo would still work if we were da--_

He crossed that out before he even finished writing it. It was quite possibly the most childish thing he had ever written, and he almost felt ashamed for thinking it.

However, he still thought of it.

_Con: He snores._

_Pro: He bought me ear plugs._

_Con: Sometimes he forgets to brush his teeth._

_Pro: I keep mouthwash in my bag for him._

_Con: He hates the ocean._

_Pro: But he loves space._

_Con: He is nothing like me._

_Pro: I don't care._

_Con: I like him._

_Pro: I like him a lot._

Logan stared at his list that he made, and he hated that he knew what it spelled out for him. He hated that he was so factual about it. But then again, being lost in his own feelings probably would've been worse.

But now, this meant the pivotal thing.

He wrote it down.

_Con: Now I have to tell him I'm in love with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop wooppppp


	8. Backstage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is not quite as confident as he seems, and Logan learns this on opening night of Sweeney Todd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does include a description of a panic attacks. The way it happens and the way its taken care of is from personal experience, so i apologize if it isn't as accurate to what other people have written before. Read with care!

The sun was just starting to set outside as Logan packed his satchel. 

“How much do you have to pack, nerd?” asked Roman from the bathroom. The door was open, which meant that Roman could see Logan's reflection as he applied his foundation. “It's two hours, and then a cast party. It's not a vacation to Cancun.”

“For one,” Logan started without turning around, “you fail to take into account intermission, mingling, crowds, driving time, socialization, and the drive home. For two, don't call me nerd. And three.” He turned around now, finger in the air like a mom about to delegate chores to her children. Then he pointed his thumb at himself. “I am your designated driver, a position I offered out of kindness, one I can revoke if you keep heckling me.”

“It's not heckling unless you're on a stage,” replied Roman cooly as he swiped the cover-up over an unsightly zit that dared to make an appearance. “Which I will be soon.”

“Oh,” Logan joked, “then I'll make sure to holler and whoop when I see you.” he turned back around to his satchel.

Roman laughed softly, and Logan's hands tightened around the bed sheets. He twisted the cover, and tried to shake his head back into reality. Every little thing Roman did seemed to send Logan into more of a spiral than he was already in lately. It was already hard enough to contemplate revealing his true feelings, but now Roman was in a great mood. Which meant he was talking a lot, singing a lot, and--worst of all--smiling a lot. He was bounding across the dorm and reciting lines, rehearsing moves, and going over his script, all while looking particularly graceful, and Logan had just about had enough. 

It had been a small bit since Logan had come to the troubling realization that he developed a considerable crush on his roommate. And he hadn't really done anything about it, which probably made it worse. Every joke and brush of skin had left him nearly immobile, because, let's face it, feelings weren't his strong suit. The only person he really ever went to about these sorts of things was in a different state, and phone calls about the subject were starting to get increasingly less helpful. 

He'd considered talking to Patton about his revelation instead, but he eventually counted it out. Patton was too close to Roman; he'd surely tell, especially due to his commitment to honesty. And the whole “I have a friend who likes a friend” technique was something he didn't want to reduce himself to.

But hopefully he wouldn't be confused for long.

Logan counted his things out loud under his breath, talking slowly so as to not accidentally skip over anything. “One travel size box of tissues, one bottle of water, one wallet, one set of keys, one phone, one sweater, one hat--”

“It's 75 degrees!” called Roman from the bathroom.

“It might get cold, you don't know!” Logan retaliated. He turned back to his supply. “One energy bar, one handkerchief, and one…”

He looked at the single rose lying on the bed. It hadn't quite bloomed yet, but would start to in the coming days. Roman didn't know about this yet, and would receive it after the show. And around the stem was tied a note in an envelope. On the envelope, simply written, was Roman’s name in a careful script.

Logan took a deep breath, and then wrapped the rose in parchment paper as carefully as he could, then slid it in the front pocket of his satchel so it wouldn't get bent or broken. Then he loaded the inside pocket with all of his essentials. He slung it over his shoulder before standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Nikola Tesla!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What did you do?”

Roman turned from the mirror and smiled at Logan. “What?”

His face was a ghastly pale gray. He had swiped the absolute wrong shade of foundation on. “Sweeney is a pale fellow,” said Roman. “If I do the foundation here, it cuts down on time for makeup to do it once I get there. Are you ready?”

Though taken slightly aback, Logan nodded. He checked his watch. “I understand you have to be there early, so we have ten minutes.”

“Perfect.” Roman swiped Logan's keys up and tossed them over as he head out the door. “Let us go where no man has gone before!”

“The theatre?”

A pause. “Let us go where many men have gone before!”

When Roman opened the door, Patton was standing there, poised to knock. When he saw that he was beat to it, he grinned, holding up a sizeable bouquet of daisies. “Hey superstar!”

Logan swallowed. That was... Certainly more than a rose.

“Well, I must say--” Roman took the flowers gratefully, sniffing them-- “These are lovely Patton, thank you. But, you usually give these after the show is over.”

Patton shrugged. “I couldn't wait.”

“Good a reason as any. Not that I'm surprised.” He winked. Patton probably did this every time Roman had a show by the casual way he reacted. “Let me put these in water and we'll head out.” He turned around and walked into the kitchen, and Logan moved pointedly out of his way.

Oh boy.

***

When they arrived, the auditorium was as empty as it was the first time Logan was here, aside from the stage being covered by a red curtain. The tarps Logan had fallen onto were absent as well, replaced with rows of small bleachers. He assumed this would be where part of the orchestra sat. Patton led he and Logan to the front of the rows of seats while Roman scurried off to get ready backstage.

“I always sneak inside to reserve my seat,” Patton explained. “Of course, they're both of our seats now.” He draped a jacket over two seats. “I know it's a little wrong, but he's my best friend! I want to see him up close.”

“I never pegged you for a criminal,” Logan joked as he set his own jacket down in front of one of the seats. Patton chuckled for a second before starting back, with Logan shortly behind.

They were almost at the door when Logan looked back to where a hallway turned the corner. That was where Roman had went. He bit his lip, then turned to Patton, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “You know what? You go on.”

Patton took the keys. “Why? You not coming?”

“I'm going to--” he nodded his head in the direction of the hallway-- “um...tell him to...break a femur.”

“Ah. Okay. Catch you later then.” He cheerfully went out the door, calling, “I'll keep your seat warm!”

Logan looked left, then right, and made sure no one else was entering or exiting. Then, he made his way to the corner as casually as one could. 

Once he turned the corner and pushed through a set of double doors labeled “Sweeney Cast and Crew--BREAK A LEG”, it became painfully aware how out of place Logan was at a place like this.

The first thing that hit him was the sound. The sound of mixing voices combined with random yells and voices singing coming from mouths he couldn't see left Logan almost dizzy. Someone's voice raised higher than the others, at an almost omniscient position, and something in the back of his head told him it was either the stage manager or the director. They were ordering this actor and that actor to go to this place or that place, and where was Lacy for costumes, and something else that Logan didn't understand. A lot of stage terms he'd heard Roman muttering in his sleep. Maybe they weren't all nonsense like he'd first thought.

The next thing was...everyone was running. From one room to the next, in costumes or all in black. Someone forgot a prop or needed to double check the script, or see if Lacy for costumes was in the bathroom. No one was stationary. All Logan could do was stare open mouthed at all the commotion. 

_Was it like this every single time?_ Logan thought. _Or were they just grossly unprepared?_

He made out a passing girl screaming, “WHAT did I say about leaving your GRAPEFRUITS in the GREEN room, SARAH? What happened during Aladdin Sarah? WHAT HAPPENED??” She disappeared into another door holding a half a grapefruit, looking furious.

It was like this every single time.

He dared to step forward and catch someone as they passed. Some woman dressed in black from head to toe, wearing a headset. He tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, clearly frazzled.

She covered her mic with her hand. When she saw Logan, her face melted into one of relief. “Ah, free hands. Do you know where Lacy is?”

Logan stammered. “O-oh, no you...must have me confu--”

“Listen, doors open in less than an hour, and half the cast is missing their costumes because she was supposed to dry clean them. Can you find her?” She shot a finger at him. “Thanks. And lose the tie. We're at a show, not a gala.”

Logan looked down at himself. Black shirt, black pants. Perhaps he'd been mistaken for a crew member. He looked back up. “Actually, I was looking for Roman. Roman Loman?”

The woman sighed. “Probably in his dressing room. Dude's a treasure but takes forever. See if you can speed him up, Joan needs to talk to him.”

“Joan?”

She scoffed. “The director?! Just-- tell Roman they really need to talk to him. Okay? Thanks. And, once again--” she flopped Logan's tie-- “get rid of this.” Then she walked away.

Logan just blinked after her. Then he pushed his way through the ever moving crowd to try and find Roman’s room.

It wasn't hard to find. At the end of the hall, there was a door with a large paper star taped to it with Roman’s name written on it. It reminded him of the note in his satchel, which seemed to burn a hole right through him.

“Roman?” Logan called. He knocked on the door. There was no answer. He tried the knob. The door opened.

“Hi,” he prefaced, “just wanted to wish you luck-- er tell you to break a leg, and to, um--”

He stopped short when he saw what had become of Roman. 

He was in the corner of the room, curled up on a bean bag, hands covering his face. He was quietly sobbing.

“Oh my goodness!” Logan exclaimed, rushing over, abandoning his satchel at the door. He leaned down near Roman, and his mind blanked momentarily. It was a shock to see the man of a thousand boasts crumpled into ball on the floor. Comforting words were caught in his throat, and all he could say was, “Roman? What's wrong?” He had to gather his bearings. 

Whether he had just reached that point, or Logan catching him crying embarrassed him, he let out an even louder sob. He sniffled, then looked out of the corner of his eye at Logan. “Oh, dear Odin,” he mumbled through a stuffy nose. His voice was barely audible, coming through choppy breaths. “Logan, how-- how did you get back here?”

“I...walked? Um, what's wrong?”

Roman didn't answer. He didn't even seem to process what Logan had said, already absorbed again in his own tears. He didn't have his costume on yet, which was beneficial, seeing as his gray foundation was smearing all over the beanbag.

Logan dared to reach forward and grab Roman’s arm comfortingly. “Roman. Uh, Rolo?” Roman breathed out, uneven, and glanced at Logan. He usually didn't use the nickname Patton gave to him. “What's going on? Are you hurt?”

Roman groaned, turning over to face Logan. He put his hand over Logan's where he'd been holding Roman’s arm. Logan couldn't help that his heart skip a beat when he did so. “I can't do it,” Roman choked out.

“Can't do what?” asked Logan.

Roman tried to wipe his tears, but only ended up wiping around his makeup. His breaths were shallow and fast. “The show. I can't do the show. There's too much. Too much.” He let his head fall against the bean bag again, crying once again.

It suddenly clicked. Back home, he'd seen something like this with Virgil. He'd helped his friend through many a bad day, and vice versa, though Logan's bad days were vastly different compared to Virgil's. However, his experience with his previous friend could help here, since they seemed to be going through the same motions.

He was calmer now that he knew what to do. He reached for Roman’s hand, and he gripped back. Most of the time, Virgil liked holding Logan's hand since it grounded him. Thankfully that was the same here.

“Roman,” Logan said calmly, smoothly, “I think you are having a panic attack.” Sometimes people forget, and think they are going through something else. Remembering what it is and knowing what it is could help one understand how to come back down. “But I'm going to help you through it, okay?”

Roman nodded. 

“Don't speak, just breathe. Start there. You can control that. What you do, is you go in 4 seconds, hold it for 7, and let it out for 8. Okay? Breathe in.”

Roman breathed in, then held it for a few seconds, then let it all out in a huff. 

Logan shook his head. “No, too fast. I'll count with you. Breathe in for 4 seconds. Ready?” He counted to four as Roman breathed in. “Let's hold it for 7.” He counted to seven. “And out for 8.” He counted to eight as Roman breathed out. “Good. Good job. Let's do it again.” Logan did it with Roman until he wasn't hyperventilating anymore, and he was confident that he could talk again.

“Roman, what are your favorite animals?” Logan asked. “Give me three.”

Roman swallowed hard. “Um.” His voice was small. “Horse, Dog, Sea Otter.”

“Now, give me three colors that you can see in this room.”

“Brown, blue, black.”

The grip on Logan's hand loosened. Roman sat up. 

“Tell me five things that are touching you right now.”

“Um, my clothes, my shoes, my hair, the beanbag, and you.”

Logan pulled his hand away. “Are you okay now?”

Roman took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. His breath was nearing normal again. Focusing on the breathing exercise seemed to stop his crying, which was beneficial. “I think so. I don't know how that happened.” His voice was a little hoarse though.

“What was going through your mind?” He liked to do damage control first, then try to fix the underlying problem. It worked nine times out of ten.

“This…” he exhaled. “This is my dream show, Logan. The role I've always wanted to play since I was young. And...I don't want to mess it up.”

Logan was taken aback. “Why would you mess it up?”

“I don't know! I just--” he threw his hands in the air. “Somehow.”

“Roman.” 

Roman looked at him.

“You know me by now. I don't like, nor understand theatre.”

“I know that.”

“You know that I could never make the stage. Heck, I got mistaken for a crew member on the way in here, so I'm obviously not built for the spotlight.”

“And?”

“And. I still came here, because I want to see you perform. I'm excited to see it. I want to see this play, because of you.”

Roman wiped his nose. “Really?”

“Yes. You're the only reason I'm here.”

Roman smiled, and Logan looked at the ground. “Thank you Logan.”

“You'll do amazing.”

“Thank you so much.” He stood, and helped Logan to his feet too. “For...all of it.” He made a gesture to the bean bag. 

Logan shrugged. “It was nothing.” He slapped Roman’s shoulder. “Break a femur. You got this, Sweeney.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment!!!!!


	9. sweeney

By the time Logan and Patton had made their way back into the building, a line had formed at the ticket counter. Even though they were among the first, several dozen people made it to the door before them. And when Logan looked behind him, he saw that only more were coming, forming a line that would soon wrap around the building. They were mostly kids from the college, since it was a college production, with a few adults and older folk sprinkled in.

Logan handed the man his and Patton's tickets, saying they'd been paid for already. When asked by who, he'd said that Sweeney Todd himself had bought them.

The man just rolled his eyes and let them through. Perhaps this sort of thing happened a lot.

Their seats at the front had been untouched, with Patton and Logan's jackets acting as an anchor to their chairs. And it was smart they got here early, since the rest of the row had already been filled with excited show goers.

Logan slid into his seat, sliding his satchel carefully under it. “Is this the kind of show where they jump offstage and sit on your lap?”

Patton looked at him, surprised. “I think you're thinking of something else.” He tried to hide his giggle as he turned his phone off.

“But how does it work?” asked Logan. “What happens?”

“What do you mean what happens? You sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!”

Logan just stared forward and adjusted himself in his seat, waiting for the clock to strike the hour. He did not understand theatre.

There was a few minutes between he and Patton where neither of them said anything. Logan glanced around him and caught bits and pieces of different conversations, but all in all he just let the voices blend together. Patton ended up making chit chat with the couple sitting next to him, who said they both had a girlfriend in the show. They both exchanged pleasantries on the life of having a loved one be obsessed with theatre, and it was light and hearty giggles.

After a while, however, Patton turned to Logan. “So, what do you think?” he asked.

Logan looked at him, having previously checked his watch. It was nearly show time. “Think of what?”

Patton gestured to the stage. “Roman.”

He kicked his satchel further under the seat with his foot. Swallowing, he stared pointedly at the stage. “I think he’s a great actor.”

“Nooo,” said Patton, shaking his head, “I mean as a person. An interest.” He nudged Logan. “A beau.” 

If it wasn’t obvious before that he had a thing for Roman, it sure was now. Because at the mere mention of it, Logan started fidgeting mindlessly as he defended himself against nothing. Fixing his tie, adjusting his glasses, wiping nonexistent wrinkles out of his shirt, whatever kept his hands from reaching down and shoving the note in Patton’s hands and begging him to give it to Roman. “Wh- I never… I mean of course not, do you think I’m-- some kind of, well, no, I’d not…” he cleared his throat, and bid his hands be still. “Nope.”

Patton tilted his head to the side. “Really? Cuz I thought you guys would be cute together.”

Logan hummed, staring ahead at the stage on purpose. “I never considered it.” He wasn’t sure what made him want to conceal the truth from Patton. Maybe because he wanted to tell Roman himself. Maybe he had slaved over that note for a solid two days and it was full of the things he could never say out loud, to Patton or anyone. So, he decided, he would just wait until just he and Roman were alone together. Thankfully, the lights started to dim.

“Besides,” Patton added, smiling, “I could still call Roman ‘Rolo’, and it would still fit, but then I could also call _you_ ‘Rolo’ because--”

Logan pointed at the opening curtain. “Hey, look, the show is starting! Shh!”

Roman had explained that the college theatre budget had been going through some cuts recently, so they couldn’t have the same production value as large theatre companies, but Logan didn’t see it. It looked amazing. 

The lights dimmed to black, and only the stage lights were on, illuminating a man. Music started to play, and he started to sing to the audience.

“Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd!” He bounded across the stage. “His skin was pale and his eye was odd!” 

“He’s good,” Patton mumbled to Logan.

Logan couldn’t help it when he thought, _Roman is better._

“He shaved the faces of gentlemen who never thereafter were heard from again.” The man paused, and started some sort of dance number with the rest of the people onstage. “He trod a path that few have trod! Did Sweeney Todd!”

All of the people on stage sang the next line, “The Demon Barber of Fleet Street!”

***

The final number earned a standing ovation before the curtains even closed on the last line of the play. When it opened once again for curtain call, everyone was on their feet, clapping and whooping for every actor that came to the stage to take their bow. They were all smiling as wide as their mouths would let them.

However, the loudest applause was saved for Roman, who strode up to the stage in his makeup and costume and wig and everything. He stood center stage, possibly grinning wider than all of them. He caught Logan's eye, and Logan smiled back, clapping until his hands hurt. He wasn't one for whooping, but Patton did it enough for the both of them. When Roman put a hand over his stomach and took his bow, then stepped back to do a final bow with everyone at once, it finally clicked with Logan.

Logan would probably never understand theatre. He didn't understand why people put so much work into portraying something they've never experienced before. He didn't understand why people gave up their free time (and in Roman’s case, sleep) for it. He didn't understand what was so appealing about sweating on a stage for two hours, several nights a week, under hot lights, leaping around for an audience that wouldn't appreciate it, or even probably remember it two months later, for little to no pay and no recognition.

But that was it. Logan didn't _have_ to understand theatre. Because when Roman stood up from his bow, teeth shining through his smile, wiping the sweat off his forehead and hugging his fellow cast members as the curtain shut, Logan knew he didn't have to understand _why_ Roman loved it so much. All he had to do was understand _that_ Roman loved it so much. It showed in his face, and it reminded Logan of the way he smiled when get got accepted to this school. It reminded him of how excited he was to broaden his horizons and learn new things about the subjects he loved and was passionate about.

Well, this was something Roman was passionate about. So, who was he to diminish it?

The only thing diminishing was Logan's confidence. Because the fonder he grew of Roman (and this little epiphany shot that fondness up to 11), the more nervous he felt around him.

The house lights went up, and Patton threw his jacket on before excitedly telling Logan that they had to wait backstage for Roman to come out so they could congratulate him. He scampered off without waiting for Logan.

He looked down at his satchel. The parchment paper was just barely peeking out from the front pocket.

He sighed. This whole confession thing seemed to be nearing impossible.

***

Logan took his sweet time exiting the auditorium. He purposely waited until the crowd gathered around the doorway and disrupted the regular flow of show goers. Eager to leave, they all tried to leave at once, which caused considerable pedestrian traffic. Logan, however, was fine with this. He idled at the back, a few feet away from the last person waiting, trying to figure out his words.

“I loouuhff...you.” That sounded casual, Logan. It sure did. “I loowwve, luuve you.” He sighed. “Your existence is...good.”

_Don’t be such a robot, Specs. Though, the tie does help._

Roman’s words from their first few days of meeting each other came back to him. Logan looked down at his tie in frustration. He loosened it a little bit and tried to shake Roman’s words away. And he tried think of something different, something smooth, something he couldn't mess up.

It wasn't like he could hand Roman the note and walk away, since they had to room together. And if he just gave the rose, it could just be interpreted as a gift from a friend. He didn't want to go through Patton, but the prospect of seeing Roman’s reaction live was a terrifying thought.

With a sigh of annoyance at himself, he dialed a number.

“Yo.”

“Virgil, talk me out of this.”

He sounded tired. But he always did. “Out of what?”

“I'm about to tell Roman how I...feel. But, I can't.”

“Why can't you?”

“Because--” Logan scoffed. “It's obvious. I can't tell him because--”

He paused. Virgil’s voice was quiet and suggesting. “Because…?”

Logan made a fist at his side, tapping it against his satchel. “Because it's quite obvious that he doesn't feel the same way. And how would I live with him if I confess what I'm thinking and he doesn't reciprocate? I like him. A lot. And I think it would be enjoyable to be with someone like him, and I think we would be nice together, and so does Patton, and Roman has been very suggestive lately, I think on purpose, and I'm going to tell him no matter how much you tell me not to.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “So…” Virgil half chuckled. “So, what are you doing?”

“Confessing!”

“Do it.”

“No, Virgil, you're supposed to talk me out of it!”

“No, stop, don't do it,” said Virgil flatly.

“Hush Virgil I'm doing it anyway.” He hung up as Virgil cheered on the other end.

The crowd had dissipated a bit as he slid his phone in his pocket. But not enough. So Logan rounded the seats and went out the other door that was in a darkened corner of the auditorium. It was the door he and Roman had entered when he ran lines with him. 

He weaved through the crowd as they chatted with the various actors, but Roman wasn't among them. So, Logan rounded the corner with the double doors, preparing to go down the hall to his dressing room, when he caught Roman standing right in front of the doors, talking to Patton. Roman was out of his costume and into his casual clothes. His hair was slicked back with how sweaty he was, and despite that being a tad gross, Logan couldn't help liking the look it created. 

He reached into his satchel and slowly pulled out the rose, unwrapping it. It was in perfect condition, with the note tied around the stem in the same way it was before. Logan stuffed the parchment paper into the pocket and put the rose behind his back.

Roman caught Logan's eye and waved him over. “Hey!” he called. “You made it all the way through I see. Have a good time?”

Logan nodded, smiling as he neared. Patton turned around too. 

“Yeah! He really seemed to enjoy it!” affirmed Patton.

“Oh, yes. Despite being... Completely nonsensical and strange, I did enjoy it.”

Roman beamed. “Well I am glad to hear that.” He reached to hug Logan, which made him freeze up. All he could do was hug back with the one hand and try not to pass out. The smell of the stage makeup was overwhelming, but the smell of Roman’s perfume evened it out. He always wore something that smelled like baby powder; something Logan had noticed ever since he did their laundry the first time.

Logan pulled back, and Patton was just staring between the two of them, back and forth, before saying, “You know what? I'll pull the car around, and we can head to the cast party. Yeah?”

He got the keys from Logan, who didn't look away from Roman, and went off.

Roman stood there, half smiling. Almost as if he was expecting something. He clapped his hands. “So.”

Logan nodded. “So.” The hand holding the rose was starting to get a little sweaty, so he decided to just get this over with. “Roman?”

“Hm?”

“Roman, I…” He gripped the rose harder, and a little thorn started to poke him. “I…” _think you are quite the catch, and would like to start a courtship with you._ “I…” _want you to know that I like you a lot, and want to ask you out on a date._ “I--”

“Hello?” Roman waved a hand in front of Logan’s face. “Are you broken?”

Logan shook his head. “No, I just...I think…” he took a deep breath. “Roman, I…”

Roman’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, waiting for what Logan was trying to say. Like he could almost guess what was about to be said, but couldn't quite prove it, so he was just waiting in anticipation. His eyes glanced down to the arm that was behind Logan's back, wondering what could be behind there.

Logan sighed. He reached his other hand behind his back and deftly untied the note from the stem. He slipped it in his pocket, and produced the rose. “I think you did a great job.” His heart sunk with his chest.

Roman smiled, and took the rose. He cocked an eyebrow at the strange delivery though. However, there was something missing from his grin. It didn't quite reach his eyes as he smelled the flower. If Logan was crazy, he would've said he caught disappointment in his face, but that was probably just Logan projecting. 

“Well, thank you, so much Logan.” He looked at the flower for a moment, then up at Logan, and jokingly put the rose between his teeth. He extended a hand. “Would milady like to tango?”

Logan scoffed, and turned away. “Tango denied.” He started for the car trying to fight the anger that was rising in his throat. That was his one and only chance, and he completely blew it. He could've rid himself of all his confusion and fears, and now, all they did was triple. He bit his lip on the way out. 

***

Later that night, after the cast party had died down, and people started to go home, Logan went outside to warm the car up and pull it around.

Patton watched him go, and when he was out the door, he tapped Roman excitedly. “So? How'd it go?”

Roman shrugged, downing the rest of his margarita. “Nothing happened.” Patton's face fell. “I really thought he was going to say something.”

“Me too,” Patton added, “I mean, tonight would've been the perfect night to do it.”

“I don't know.” Roman sighed. He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “I just really thought he would.”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he's just nervous.”

“Or I just misread his actions.”

“I don't think so.” Patton reached into Roman’s jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. He put it on the counter in front of him, opening it up. “This spells it out pretty clear.”

Roman stared at the pro and cons list, frown on his face. He crumpled it up and tossed in a nearby garbage. “If he hasn't said it now, he probably never will. I was just overanalyzing again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this chapter was kinda short. Sorryyyyy. Leave a comment!!!!


	10. the note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin finally, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Using virgil as a plot device? Its more likely than you think

It was early in the morning when Logan heard a knocking at the door. He checked his phone, which read 5:47 a.m., so he just assumed that someone had gotten drunk and tried to stumble back to their room, and just knocked on the wrong door. When the person knocked again, he groaned, and tried to fold his pillow over his ears.

Roman stirred on his side of the room. “Are you gonna get that?” he muttered tiredly. The knocking had woken him too.

“Why should I get it?” Logan said back, equally tired. He closed his eyes again and hoped it would go away, since it wasn't the first time it happened. The first time, he had to half lead and half drag a crying girl back to her dorm as she cried about someone named Jessica cheating on her. “I got it last time.”

“You just looked through the peephole.” Roman turned over and put the covers over his head. “I was looking.”

Knocking came once again. Logan cursed Roman under his breath and threw the covers off of him. He swiped his glasses from the bedside table and put them on, trying to make his hair look not so terrible. Even when his shirt was just a NASA logo, wrinkled and slept in, he still tried to make himself halfway presentable. He stood, and was in the midst of putting actual pajama pants on instead of answering the door in his boxers when his phone vibrated on the nightstand.

Logan looked at the door, then at his phone. He grabbed his phone first.

**Virgil R: You still asleep, Einstein?**

He furrowed his brows a little. Of course Logan would be asleep. Virgil always knew that if he didn't get his eight hours, the world had hell to pay. While he had to be up at six a.m. anyway, ten minutes made a big difference. He ought to know that.

But, since he was up now, he might as well text back.

**Logan: Not anymore. Someone keeps knocking so I'm trying to figure out who it is.**

There was a pause in between texts and knocks before receiving one back.

**Virgil R: Ever try...opening the door?**

**Logan: I never thought of that! Have you thought about teaching at Yale?**

It was almost as if he could see Virgil's face on the other end in response to his sarcasm. The half annoyed scoff Virgil would give. It satisfied him, and he put his phone down, heading for the door.

He was almost at the door too, when the knocking turned rhythmic. It stopped Logan in his tracks, hand just touching the knob as he heard the knocks. Because for some reason, it sounded familiar. It sounded, strangely, like morse code. 

Morse code, a long dead and obsolete form of communication, was something that fascinated Virgil and Logan as kids. So in their free time, they practiced it. By the time they made it to high school, both of them were practically masters. They'd talk about their teachers in front of them through blinks, they'd tap their pencils on their desks to give answers during tests (this was more on Virgil's end than Logan's, but it was still entertaining to watch the teacher's growing frustration), and, they had a knock. It was pretty simple, just their name in morse. If Virgil was knocking, he'd do Logan's name, and vice versa. 

So Logan listened. He listened for the letters that would signify his own name in morse. Because as outrageous as it would seem to have Virgil here, knocking on his door at 5:50 in the morning, there was no one else who knew this knock.

He tapped his leg along with the knocks, despite Roman’s protests. One short, one long, two short, three long, two long, two short, two long, one short. Going letter by letter, it spelled, sure enough, L, O, G, A, N. 

A smile found its way onto Logan's face as he flung the door open.

There he stood. The man, the myth, the legend, the devil himself. Dressed in purple jacket and tired eyes, arms held open as if waiting for an embrace, smiling wickedly. 

Logan did indeed embrace him. He threw his arms around Virgil's neck, and Virgil hugged his waist. It was perfect, because Logan was an above the shoulders hugger while Virgil was a below the shoulders hugger. 

“You're actually here,” Logan said, face buried in Virgil's jacket. When he pulled away, he added, _“Why_ so early in the morning?” He wasn't afraid to show his true annoyance to Virgil, because they both knew he didn't really mean it.

Virgil shrugged. “Wanted it to be a surprise. Speaking of surprises--” he reached into the front pocket of a duffel bag he had brought with him-- “your mom asked me to give you this.”

He handed Logan a colored envelope with his name on it. Logan opened it and saw that it was a card signed by everyone in his family saying that they missed him. He smiled at it, especially at the 20 they gave him too.

“How long are you staying?” asked Logan. Virgil shrugged and adjusted the duffel bag strap on his shoulder.

“Few days. A week. I dunno yet. As long as it takes me to not miss you anymore, I guess.”

Logan half chuckled.

Then, he heard footsteps behind him, and he turned to see Roman angrily stomping up to the door, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Listen _Specs,”_ he scolded, “I wasn't dumb enough to take seven am classes, so I have two hours of sleep left; please do me the favor of letting me have them--”

When Roman opened his eyes, he noticed Virgil. And he noticed that he did not at all look like someone he'd met before, and he didn't look drunk in the slightest bit. Could it be that someone had the correct door? He ran a hand through his hair despite the fact that he looked like he just came out of a vacuum dust bag.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Virgil snickered, and nudged Logan. “His friend,” he said. Logan nodded, and made a face at him that said, _Not just a friend, the friend._

Roman’s eyes widened, and he extended his hand, trying to recover from his crass greeting. “Great to meet you,” he said, shaking Virgil’s hand, “I've heard so many good things about you!”

“I should say the same thing,” Virgil replied. Before Roman could react, he said, “Sorry to wake you up.”

He shook his head. “Nah, nope, you're fine, I don't even like sleep!” He smiled, but then realized what he even said. He cleared his throat. “That's not true. I'm very tired.”

Logan put his hand on Roman’s shoulder, and Virgil hid his smirk. “Just let me get dressed, and we will get out of your hair.”

Roman turned and walked back to his bed, mockingly muttering, “You gonna brush your teeth too?”

“As a matter of fact, Roman, I am.” Logan walked into the bathroom with a pair of pants on his arm and flicked on the light. Roman just scoffed, and flopped back on his bed, putting the pillow over his head. He didn't even bother to cover back up.

Virgil waited in the doorway with his hands in his pockets until Logan came out.

“Want me to carry that for you?” Logan indicated the duffel bag as he adjusted his tie.

“Nah, I got it. I'm gonna drop it off at my hotel.”

“Oh, alright.” Logan reached for his satchel and swung it over his shoulder before heading out the door.

When the door was shut, and they were both in the hallway, Virgil hugged Logan again. “I really missed you man.”

“I missed you too. Let's talk about what I'm missing up there. I have an hour before my first class.”

***

Later that day, Logan invited Roman and Patton to go to lunch with him and Virgil. Surprisingly, they all hit it off quite well. Virgil and Patton shared a love for painting and music, while he connected with Roman on the subject of poetry. It was a relief, because Logan was slightly afraid that they wouldn't all get along so well. Because while Virgil like to paint and write, he also had a collection of horror movies, which Patton weren't a fan of. And he did taxidermy on the weekends, walked along the ocean during the dead of night, and mostly did the best he could at being as creepy as possible. 

Thankfully, his other two friends were just as strange, just in different ways, so it all worked out.

“So what's it like up in Michigan?” Patton asked, hands under his chin, expectant.

“Um, cold.” Virgil half laughed at the statement. “It's either snowing or scorching, so nothing really gets done.”

“Well, the weather's always nice down here,” Logan commented. “People are nice too.”

“Oh they must be,” said Virgil, emphasizing the 'must’.

Logan tilted his head to the side a bit. “What do you mean?”

Virgil looked between him and Roman, indicating them with a head nod. “You know...I mean, you should know how nice the people are, right?” He winked at them.

“Uh--” Logan laughed nervously-- “I'm...not sure what you're referring to, Virgil.” He gave Virgil a look. Or, tried to anyway, because he had his attention on his food, which he was poking his fork into as he talked.

“Aw, come on. This long and you haven't even told me how dating life is?”

Logan froze. Suddenly the memory of the auditorium came back to him. His phone call with Virgil. He frantically tried to search his memory for when he called after the cast party and explained that he didn't end up telling Roman how he felt, but nothing came up. All he could remember was telling Virgil that he was about to confess his feelings with a rose and a note. He didn't even so much as send a text. 

Virgil didn't know.

“Dating life?” probed Patton.

“Yeah, him and Roman. They started dating after that show he did, right?”

Roman’s mouth fell open, and he stopped dead with his fork halfway to his plate. He swallowed his food like he were swallowing a rock, and set his utensil down so slowly one would think he was slowing time itself down. He tried to say something, but his mouth wouldn't form the words.

Logan's eyes were glued to the table, like if he stared hard enough he could burn a hole into the floor and jump through it to escape. He bit his lip as hard as he could without drawing blood, unable to think of anything to say that could recover the situation.

Virgil looked up when he noticed the sudden silence, and when he did, his face went pale. As soon as he saw the look on both of their faces, he realized his fatal mistake, and his fork fell into his plate. Patton put his hands over his mouth, eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Logan?” he asked, voice small, speaking slowly. “You did...tell him...didn't you?”

Logan didn't look up from the table. All he could do was give a microscopic shake of his head.

“Oh my god.” Virgil ran his hand through his hair as he pushed his chair back. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry. I thought...I thought you guys...I thought you told him.”

Roman regained his voice quicker than Logan did. “We...aren’t dating. I had no idea that he…”

Patton slapped his hand on the table, grinning. Everyone started as he exclaimed, “I knew it! I told you Roman! I told you! You denied it, but I totally called it!”

Roman moved his plate out of the way to let his head fall onto the table into his hands. “This isn't happening.”

Logan was still struck speechless. His cheeks and ears were practically on fire, and his heart had dropped like a cinder block into his stomach. All he could do was say, “Virgil…”

“I had no idea he didn't know, Logan, I'm so sorry.”

He held his hand up. “It's okay, I swear.” Logan adjusted his glasses, and tried to figure out something to say to Roman, who had brought his head back up.

“Do you...like me?” he asked of Logan.

“I…”

His face showed that the gears were turning inside his head. “Opening night...with the rose? Were you...trying to--?”

Logan spit it out before he never could again. “Yes.” He reached down for his satchel, and was digging around inside. 

“What are you doing?” Roman asked.

Logan pulled out an envelope and shoved it in Roman’s hands, then slammed two twenties on the table. After that, he stood up from his chair, gathered his things, and left, with Virgil not far behind as he apologized over and over.

Roman turned the envelope over in his hands, looking at his own name written on the front. Patton peered at it for a second, but then pulled back, because it was obviously not meant for him.

He looked at the envelope, looked at Patton, and back at the note. Slowly, he opened it, and read the note that was written inside in Logan's careful hand.

***

_Roman,_

_You are insufferable. You are loud, and obnoxious, and you walk around singing these showtunes, dancing around on a stage with people you barely know, portraying stories that would never happen in real life. You are everything I am not; it’s like looking in a mirror on opposite day._

_And yet? I love it. Because while you have a loud and confident way about you, I've seen your softer moments. The way you care for your friends--specifically Patton--rivals even my love for my own best friend. The way you dedicate yourself to your passions reminds me of myself, though our passions couldn't be further from similar to each other. If you miss an assignment, it's because you were studying something else, not because you were goofing off. If you skip a meal, or a few hours of sleep, it's because you're working on a project. I've never seen someone so fiercely loyal to their studies and passions. And that's coming from me._

_You really are everything I'm not. You're kind, and lovely, and insightful, and...dare I say it, intelligent. You have your moments where I question why I see what I see in you, but they are few and far between. Most often, your antics remind me why I became interested in the first place._

_When I first met you, I thought it was never going to work, and that was my fault. I thought we were too different, and I wanted someone like me. I was close minded, and was only interested in creating the perfect future for myself, that I forgot I can't always have everything my way. Sometimes things happen. I can't plan for it all; that would be madness. I was convinced you were going to wreck my future. When really, you would do the opposite. I was trying to make my own path, without realizing I could branch off onto a different road and be just as satisfied with the scenery I come across._

_You are my different road, Roman. My path would have led to a dead end, and you changed that for me. And I wanted to express my gratitude by confessing that, I have come to like you as more than a friend/work proximity associate._

_I can't force you to be with me. But if I'm ever a road you'd consider going down, I'd be happy to be in the car with you._

_With love,_

_Specs_

_P.S. I am aware that the former metaphor may not make sense, if I am the road and also a passenger, but I am not very good with theatrics. That's your job._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter was kind of uneventful. Leave a comment on how i can do better?


	11. finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only took 11 chapters

It was a shocked and silent ride home. Roman had politely asked Patton to drive back to the dorms, and of course, Patton agreed. It took all Roman had to walk out to the parking lot in the first place, let alone drive his car home. So on the trip back, he stared out the window and tried to let the passing scenery blank his mind. The trees whipped past and the colors of the houses blended together into a murky brownish green. 

But as hard as he tried, clarity eluded him. He held the note in his hands, running his thumb along the surface of the paper absentmindedly. All that played in his head was opening night. His moment with Logan. When Patton went to go start the car on purpose so as to give them a piece of time alone. When he watched the plaintive rise and fall of Logan's chest as he kept repeating his words, trying to form the sentence in the right way, just missing it. Roman saw the way he faltered just the slightest before handing him the rose--a single rose. He saw the way some light left his eyes when he told Roman he did a good job.

Roman grit his teeth, exhaling sharply as he looked down at the note again. He should have caught it earlier. He shouldn't have dismissed that list Patton found so foolishly. He should have known.

But how could he have? Roman was convinced that the most he could get out of his relationship with Logan was a friendship. So he purposely “forgot” to do assignments; he invited Logan to run lines with him (not after that fateful day, however); he offered to pay for lunch for often than he didn't. He tried to show as much of himself as possible in hopes that Logan would catch it. 

Apparently, Logan was trying to do the same thing all along.

Roman skimmed over the words again. _You are insufferable._ He scoffed under his breath.

_And yet? I love it._

He loved it.

He loved it?

Roman folded the note up with careful movements before sliding it back into the envelope. He then put the envelope in his back pocket, and he let his hands rest in his lap. He occasionally picked at his cuticles, so his hands would have something to do.

Patton gave Roman a side glance. “You doing okay, kiddo?” he asked, voice small and worried.

“I think so,” Roman replied, still looking out the window. “I'm not sure what to think.”

“Well, stop me if I cross a line, but... Shouldn't you be a little happy? Now that...you know that you both know...I mean, you know…”

They had stopped at a red light, and Roman turned to look at Patton. He tried to make his tone come off as optimistic, but he was sure it didn't come out that way. “I should be happy. But, if this isn't how Logan wanted it to come out, then...what's going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“He might just want to call the whole thing off, is what I mean.” Roman adjusted himself in his seat. “He obviously wasn't ready, and was not prepared, and maybe that sends him into a train of thought that…” he sighed. Shrugged. “I don't know. It's just me going down a hole again.”

“Well, just think of it this way. It may have been...stressful.” Patton's hands shifted along the steering wheel. “But, I don't think that's going to make him not like you. I mean, it wasn't your fault. Right?”

Roman sighed. “I guess,” he said, defeated. It wasn't like Patton was wrong. It was just that being right didn't do his mind any good. It still ran with the idea that he had no more chances. 

Patton reached over and held Roman’s hand for a second, and Roman put his face in his other hand. He squeezed Patton's hand back, taking a deep breath. “It'll be okay Roman,” said Patton. “I wouldn't say that if I didn't believe it.”

That was reassuring.

***

Walking down the hallway to his door felt like a death march. His heart tightened in his chest with every step, and it felt like the ceiling was collapsing in the closer he got. He reached for Patton's hand and grabbed it. Despite feeling like he was a child being led to school, it did help slow his breathing. 

“It's not going to be as bad as you think it will be,” assured Patton as they turned the corner. His counselor voice had kicked in: soft, gentle, paternal. “I really think so.”

Roman let all his breath out in a huff as he got to his door. “I hope so.” He inserted the key and twisted the knob open. 

Logan was on the bed, with his face in his hands, and Virgil was next to him, arm around his shoulders. When they heard the door open, however, they both looked up. Logan looked like a deer in headlights at the sight of Roman: wide eyes, glistening, mouth slightly ajar. He looked as terrified as Roman felt.

Without a prompt, Virgil stood up and went out the door with Patton. As he passed Roman, he whispered another apology, and Roman heard Patton say that it was okay. The door shut behind them.

Logan looked around the room, almost like he was looking for some kind of escape. But eventually, his gaze fell on Roman again, and he stood up slowly. He was wringing his hands together, but trying to hide it by putting his hands behind his back in an attempt to look poised. Roman took a small step forward. So did Logan. 

Logan opened his mouth. Then closed it. He opened it again. “I--”

Roman cut him off. He didn't mean to; it just came out. “I read your note,” he said.

Logan swallowed, and adjusted his glasses. “Yes?”

“It was…” Roman reached for it in his back pocket and pulled it out. Logan looked at it like it was a cocked on. “I mean...it was well written.” He chuckled as his fingers fidgeted over the edges of the envelope.

“Thank you.”

“And, um…” Roman toyed with the flap of the envelope, opening it and closing it as he tried to make the words come out. “I…just--”

“It was out of the blue. It was something that I didn't give you so as to not make you uncomfortable.” Logan's fingers balled up the end of his tie as he spat out the sentences. He looked anywhere but at Roman. “Virgil didn't know about me not giving it to you, so please don't hold anything against him, either. I...just had some thoughts, I...got them down, and I- I didn't mean them. I didn't mean for you to--”

“I like you too.”

Logan blinked. His hands fell to his sides. “Wh...what?”

Roman put the note back in his pocket, stepping forward. “I like you too.”

“Really?” Logan’s voice was nearly breathless. Roman’s statement alone had taken all the air from his lungs.

Roman nodded, small smile on his face. “When I asked you to run lines with me? And...you asked why I didn't invite Patton instead…?”

Logan tried to hide his smile. “That was…?”

“That was why.”

“Well.” Logan looked at the floor. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he looked like he was standing a little taller. His shoulders rolled back the way they were when Roman met him for the first time. And that light that had left his eyes, it was back now.

Roman innocently put his hands behind his back, trying to sound casual. But he failed. He didn't care. “And, if you liked me too…”

Logan took another step forward. They were feet apart. “If...I liked you too…”

Another step. They were even closer. “Then…” 

Logan nearly closed the distance between them. “Then?”

Roman’s voice neared a whisper. “Then...would I be able to kiss you?”

Logan looked up at him, and there was a split second where Roman was oh so happy that he was the taller one, because this was certainly the best view. 

Logan nodded.

It was slow, simple, and vulnerable.

Roman brought his hand up to cup Logan's cheek before leaning in. Logan closed the distance between them completely, and suddenly they were kissing. It wasn't anything fancy from the movies. Logan didn't throw his arms around Roman’s neck, and Roman didn't bring his hands up and mess Logan's hair or take off his glasses. Logan didn't push Roman up against the wall, and Roman didn't throw him on a bed. But it wasn't disappointing. It wasn't passion. It wasn't an explosion of emotion that cultivated in some world ending kiss.

It was just a kiss. A simple, satisfying, innocent kiss. When they pulled away the first time, there was no heavy breathing, there was no static in the air. They pulled away, and were barely inches apart. Logan looked at Roman, Roman looked at Logan, and his hand fell from his cheek, and ran down his arm. It ended at his hand, and they both grabbed each others hands to hold them. They both smiled, and leaned in again at the same time. 

The second kiss (and third, and fourth, and fifth) was just as perfect as the first one. They ended up sitting on the edge of Roman’s bed with Logan’s head resting on his shoulder. Neither of them said anything, because neither of them had to. Not anymore. All that confusion, all the repressed feelings, they were all in the open now. So they just sat there, hand in hand, relaxed for the first time since the day Logan fell off the stage. 

***

Virgil was leaning against the wall next to the door on his phone. Patton was sitting cross legged on the floor. It had been quiet for the past ten minutes, and they really didn't know what to say. Virgil pondered knocking, but he didn't want to interrupt whatever moment they might be having. He checked his watch.

“You think they're kissing in there?” he asked of Patton.

“Probably,” he said.

There was a pause. Virgil looked at the door, then down at Patton.

“Wanna get pizza?” Virgil asked.

“Sure.”

He helped Patton to his feet, gave him a high five, and then they started off to the cafeteria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again i apologize if this chapter is short or reads quick. I wanted to get this out for you guys since youve been so patient and kind.


	12. Joslyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure where im going from here. Well see!!!

The days seemed shorter, but they were better than they had been. Now that Logan and Roman were actually dating, the days didn't have this aching, longness to them. They were full of jokes and laughter; they were full of anticipation and excitement of when they'd see each other again. They were full of teasing too. Now that they were a couple, Roman had said that the nickname contract they had created so long ago was null and void. Logan replied by saying that he'd never help him with another assignment again if that were the case. However, now that they were together, Roman conveniently remembered to do every single paper he was given.

Logan slid into his seat in his business class, waiting patiently for Dr. Picani to get started. He was at his desk, grading some leftover papers from last semesters midterms. As he did so, Logan pulled out his folder and notebook, taking out the latest assignment and setting it in front of him, preparing to go over it with a red pen in hand.

After a few moments, Logan realized that Roman wasn't sitting next to him like he usually was. The telltale whisper-singing he did when he was bored was absent from the room. He looked around to see if he hadn't just switched seats to be funny or something.

No, he wasn't there. Logan hummed, confused. There was a pause between shows, so there wasn't a possibility of a late line through. So what was the issue?

As Logan pondered this, he accidentally locked eyes with another student. It was one he hadn't formally met, but had seen around the hallways. They shared a few classes together, and had exchanged passing pleasantries, but that was about the extension of their relationship. Logan remembered them on account of their brightly colored hair, dyed pink and purple in sort of gradient. Very flashy and vibrant. Something Logan would never do, but could definitely see the appeal of.

Regardless, they didn't know each other very well. In fact, Logan didn't even know their name.

So it was a little disconcerting when he saw the scowl that formed on the student's face upon making eye contact with Logan.

Logan, caught a tad off guard, assumed that maybe the student was looking at something else. He offered a friendly smile and a small wave in the student’s direction. Surely that would show them that he meant no harm.

But the scowl didn't change. If anything, it deepened at his attempt at friendship. The student then rolled their eyes, and opened up their phone, tapping away so as to ignore Logan. 

Logan, confused, turned back around in his seat just as Roman rushed in and took his. He was breathing heavily as he slammed his books on the table. “Hey Logan.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. Logan leaned in too, barely acknowledging it. Roman didn't notice. He went on to say, “I lost one of my socks and was running late trying to find it.”

“Your socks?” Logan inquired. “Don't you have more than one pair?”

Roman shrugged. “Well, yeah, but not these ones.” He bid Logan look down so he could pull up his pants leg. He had his rainbow flag socks on; the ones Logan had bought for him the day after they started dating. Roman had woken up one day and saw that they'd been laid carefully on his improv textbook. And who else could they have been from? “I saw you putting on your ace ones, and I wanted to match.”

Logan looked down at his own pant leg, and could see the purple stripe of the flag just peeking out. He half chuckled. “Glad to be matching then.”

Dr. Picani was still grading tests, and explained that he ran late on grading them, so he had to finish them today. “How about we make this a work day, then meet up on Thursday for a lesson, okay? Work on your papers.”

Some students assented gratefully, and pulled out their laptops. Logan was one of them, and he reached into his satchel to pull out his own. He wanted to finish his rough draft by the end of the day, so he could start editing his second. 

It was a fairly simple paper for a business class: if you could own a business, what kind of business would it be, and how would you run it? Roman’s, obviously, was about his theatre company, while Logan's was a bit more practical. He would start what he called a Dry Cleaning Chemical Transactional Holding Company, which acted as the middleman between dry cleaners and the factories that produce the products they use. Roman pretended to fall asleep during the first sentence of his explanation, and Logan had to admit that it wasn't flashy; it was practical. But he also had to admit that it wasn't what he was planning to do either. It was just a good topic.

In truth, Logan didn't know what kind of business he wanted to run. He knew that whatever he did, he would probably need a partner to run the more public parts of things. Because Logan didn't like the sparkly part of business, he loved the analytical part. He loved numbers, charts, graphs, information, that sort of thing.

But he couldn't stretch that into 10 pages, so he just went with the dry cleaning.

Roman opened his notebook and outlined some ideas for his paper since he hadn't started typing yet. Logan took this moment to glance behind himself one last time. He wanted to see if the student who'd scowled at him was still staring. 

Unfortunately, they were. Their stare was peeking out from behind their computer, and it was obvious that the look he was receiving was an angry one. Logan quickly turned back around. He tapped Roman’s shoulder.

“Hmm?”

Logan gestured to his laptop, and the word document he had open. He started a new paragraph and typed something so the student couldn't hear them talking.

**Do you know anyone with pink hair?**

 

Roman quirked an eyebrow at the fact that Logan was typing instead of speaking, but he went along with it. He started to reach for Logan's laptop, but Logan insisted he write on his notebook paper like he had been so as to not raise suspicion. 

So Roman wrote, _Vaguely. Why?_

Logan tried his best to ignore the student as he typed back, **Because someone is giving me a bad look, and I don't know who they are, and I was wondering if you knew them.**

Roman gasped, then scribbled down, _Who?? I'll beat them up!! Give me names!_

**No! No violence. Don't make it obvious that you're looking, but the person behind me in the back row. I noticed it when I walked in.**

Roman did the exact opposite of what Logan said, and made it quite obvious that he was turning around and looking for someone. Logan put his head in his hands in defeat.

He caught the student's attention, and when they saw Roman, the glare melted off their face. Their eyes lit up, and they smiled. They waved too, and Roman waved back. There was something strange in his smile though, some subtle kind of strain. It didn't last long enough for Logan to be suspicious though. He turned back around and wrote on his paper.

_That's Joslyn. She does crew for a lot of the shows I'm in. She's always been nice to me, is she being mean to you?_

**Just the staring. Maybe you could find out if I did something wrong?**

Roman looked up, and nodded. “Totally,” he said. “I'll ask at the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, erasing what he'd typed.

“With you next to me.”

“What?! No!”

Roman resumed writing on his paper. “We aren't in grade school anymore Logan, we can face it like adults.”

Logan started to protest, but couldn't find anything to say that would refute it. Roman was right. They were indeed adults. 

Filthy word that it was. 'Adult’.

***

Once the class was over, Logan heard some students murmuring about a job well done as he stood with his things. It was indeed a productive two hours, and Logan was quite ready for his lunch break before his next class.

Roman rushed out of the room, since he only had ten minutes between classes. He offered a quick kiss as a goodbye, then made his way out, books tucked loosely under his arm. 

Logan tossed his satchel over his shoulder, and started out the door as well. He was pondering what kind of sandwich he would order from the deli today when he felt a strong push from behind. It knocked him off his balance, and he stumbled forward as he watched the same student who had been glaring at him all hour--Joslyn--walk past him with deliberant poise. Her shoulders were rolled back, and her footsteps were sure. Logan had no doubt in his mind; she was the one who pushed him.

He caught her as she turned the corner out the door, calling her. “Excuse me? Joslyn?”

Joslyn froze mid step, and turned around slowly. The look on her face was cold enough to freeze molten copper, but she waited for him to catch up to her, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“I’m sorry--” he offered a smile, trying to be amiable-- “if there is...something that I did, or said, to you, I really offer my deepest apologies, but I’m not so sure that we’ve ever had more than a few seconds of interaction.” Logan chuckled at an attempt to diffuse the building tension.

Joslyn rolled her eyes, and scoffed, tongue in her cheek. “If you don’t know what you’ve done by now, then I'm not going to bother explaining it to you.”

Logan blinked. He tried to search for a time where he'd done this person wrong--accident or not--but he came up empty. He shook his head slightly. “I'm really sorry, I don't--”

Joslyn laughed crudely. “Oh, don't act like he hasn't mentioned me.”

“He?” Logan arched a brow. “Who is..?”

“He? Roman? Are you this dense?”

Logan put his hands up in surrender. “I know Roman. But I can't say I've remembered him talking about you. I mean, I know you guys do shows together. He did mention that.”

Joslyn put her hands on her hips. “Really? That's it? Nothing else?”

“Um…” Logan shook his head. “Nothing else. I'm so sorry. I-- did you guys...fight, or…?”

She threw her head back and groaned dramatically. “God, you're so stupid. I can't even handle talking to you anymore. Get out of my way.” Joslyn then pushed past him, actually throwing her hand out and shoving him this time. She walked away without a second thought.

She shoved him so hard, in fact, that he fell backwards into the doorframe of the classroom he just went out of; his elbow took the most of the initial hit as he lost his balance completely and fell at Dr. Picani’s feet, right as he was trying to leave.

He set his stuff on a nearby desk and helped Logan to his feet. “You okay there, son? Did you trip on a shoelace?”

Logan looked down at his dress shoes, shaking his head. “No, that wasn't it.” He looked back up and saw Joslyn turning the corner out of sight. “Just... Clumsy.” He rubbed his elbow.

Picani put a friendly hand on his shoulder before walking away. “Been there. Watch out next time, kay?”

Logan half nodded, still staring off to where Joslyn had went.

***

When Logan met up with Roman at the end of the day to find Joslyn, he had pointed out his injured elbow. Logan tried to hide it, but it had been bleeding, and some managed to get on his tie, which Roman noticed. So Logan had to explain what had happened. This made Roman sigh, bidding his boyfriend to sit down on one of the chairs in the student lounge. 

“I should have told you about this earlier. I'm sorry I didn't,” Roman started. 

“What?”

Roman glanced behind himself to make sure Joslyn wasn't too close, and then looked back at Logan. “Back when I wasn't exactly out. You know, _out-”_ he gestured to his socks-- “Joslyn had revealed that she had a...little crush on me.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Little?”

“...Okay, a big one. A major one. She had it bad.”

Logan chuckled, remembering what Virgil had told him a while ago. “She had Roman Fever?”

Roman laughed. “Yeah, if that's what you wanna call it.” He paused. “So, I guess she might think…that…” he mumbled the next sentence under his breath, “that you...stolemefromherandnowshehatesyou.”

“What?! S-wh-stole you from her?” Logan stood, exclaiming, “You're gay!”

Roman stood up too, putting his hands on Logan's shoulders. “Calm down, it's okay. She knows that.” They both sat again. “It’s also that-- well, she knows sexuality is a spectrum, and she's kind of hoping that I'll...backtrack into bisexuality.”

“So, she has a delusion of you changing your sexual orientation just so she can date you? And, I've now ruined her fantasy? And now she hates me because of this? We've…” Logan laughed. “We’ve only been dating for two weeks.”

“That's...the short of it, yes.” Roman half shrugged. “But don't worry, I'm going to make it super clear that she is no longer an option. And, as for this?” He gestured to Logan's elbow. “We'll take care of that.”

***

It wasn't hard to find her. She was hanging around the hall where Roman and Logan's room was. When she saw Roman, she lit up once again. She approached them.

“Joslyn!” Roman greeted. They shook hands. “Good to see you again.”

Joslyn smiled amicably at Roman, but upon seeing Logan, her smile faltered, and for a second was glazed over with annoyance. “Hi Roman, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Roman replied, “fine. Did you know that Logan and I started dating?”

Joslyn pursed her lips into a tight line, and when she smiled, it looked strained and fake. “I heard about it. I thought they were rumors though. You know how dramatic theatre kids are.” She waved a dismissive hand and gave a small laugh.

Roman laughed in return, and Logan sensed that it was just as fake as Joslyn’s. He grabbed Logan’s hand, making a show of it. “Ah, yes, but these rumors are true, because we are actually dating.” Logan shifted his feet, chuckling nervously.

Joslyn clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh! How nice.” She hummed, trying and failing to hide her anger.

Roman didn't miss a beat though. “It is nice, isn't it? I love being his boyfriend. I love that we're boyfriends. He's a great kisser.” Logan tried to hide his smile.

Joslyn's voice had gone small and sarcastic. “Is he?”

“Mmhm, he is.” Roman nodded, smiling wide and weirdly. There was an energy emanating from him that Logan couldn't quite decipher, when it hit him: the day Roman took he and Patton out to dinner, and Patton had revealed that he was ace. When Logan had made his comment before he revealed that he was also ace, Roman had put a hand on Patton's leg. He had looked at Logan the same way he was looking at Joslyn now. With the same controlled anger. The same strained politeness. 

Something about being behind it instead of being targeted with it made Logan’s chest flutter.

“That's nice,” Joslyn said.

“It is nice. You know what else is nice?” Roman asked. “When people respect other people's choice in who they date. That's something that I find…” he clasped his hands in front of him, and bent down just the slightest bit. “...so incredibly nice.”

Joslyn took a step back. “Yeah?” Her face had gotten red, and she was starting to stare exclusively at the ground.

“Yeah.” He paused. “You wanna know what I hate, by the way?”

Joslyn didn't answer. 

“I hate,” Roman continued, “when people are rude to other people's boyfriends. For no reason. It's really a turn off, actually. Kind of ruins any chance that person had with me in case I found out my sexuality was a spectrum.” He inched closer, just close enough to her face that she could hear him whisper. “I especially hate when they shove my boyfriend for no reason, and cause him to bleed. It's a very uncool thing to do.” He stood back up. “If someone did that to me, I'd probably fight them.”

Joslyn's head shot up, eyes wide. Roman scoffed.

“I wouldn't, obviously,” he explained. “I wouldn't sink to their level. Would you?”

No answer.

“Josey, you wouldn't do anything like that, would you?”

Joslyn, gave a microscopic shake of the head no. 

“Good, because that would suck” said Roman. He took Logan's hand again. “Kiss me Logan, my boyfriend.”

Logan blinked. Roman leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, making sure Joslyn saw. He and Logan turned down their hallway.

“Come on, boyfriend,” said Roman loudly, “let's go to our room and do boyfriend things. Okay boyfriend?”

Logan nodded, half laughing. “Okay.”

Honestly, at this point, he was ready to do boyfriend stuff. Watching Roman completely take control of that situation with such poise made Logan feel something interesting.

He raced Roman to the dorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any ideas on how i could continue this?


	13. The birthday, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since the main plot of the story has kind of concluded (logan and roman getting together), im just going to have some fun exploring their relationship with each other. The only reason this is going to be in two or three parts is because I anticipate it getting a little long, so apologies. Enjoy!

When Logan woke up that morning, his heart stopped in his chest. 

Note that this was not because of any medical emergency. Note that, instead, it was because Roman started the day by getting as close as he could to Logan's ear, and then blowing a party horn right into his ear drum. 

Logan's eyes shot open, and he sat straight up, screaming. “ROMAN! INTRUDER!” He was throwing his fists around randomly to fight off the so called “intruder” due to the fact that, without his glasses, he was practically blind. However, once he heard Roman cackling, he started to piece together what went down. He reached for his glasses and put them on to see his boyfriend doubled over on the floor. The party horn was inches from him. “That--” Logan said, glaring-- “was very uncool.”

Roman tried to recover, but failed. He tried, and failed once more. On the third attempt, he sat up, and started to speak. It was intelligible, but was still interspersed with sputters of laughter. “I wanted--” he held back a giggle-- “to surprise you.” He started to stand. Logan was still watching him from his bed, arms crossed.

“Surprise me?” Logan asked. 

“Are you playing dumb? Happy birthday!” Roman boomed, arms gesturing to the rest of the bedroom. 

Now that Logan focused, he could see that birthday decorations adorned the entire room. A childish “happy birthday” metallic sign was against the far wall above the window. Printed out pictures of candles were taped in various spaces. Numerous sticky notes were on the walls too, and the few that Logan could read said “happy birthday Specs/boyfriend”. A few balloons were in the corner, tied to Logan's desk lamp.

Roman had did all this when Logan was sleeping, surely. How thoughtful. How elaborate. How… so incredibly _terrifying._

Logan stared wide eyed at it all, horrified. “How did you find out my birthday?”

Roman half laughed. “You think, after dating you for three months, I wouldn't have figured out your birthday by now?”

“Virgil doesn't even know my birthday,” Logan said slowly, standing from his bed. He couldn't stop looking at the decorations. “We've been friends since we were children, Roman. Children!”

“Are you serious?” Roman asked. He shook his head back into reality. “Regardless, I had to do some deep digging. Some real super secret agent stuff. Some amazing detective work--”

“Where'd you snoop?” 

Roman waved a dismissive hand, trying to laugh it off. “Whaaaat? I'm just, a lucky guesser. I…” he trailed off at Logan's death stare. He looked at the ground. “I made Patton give it to me.”

Logan made a fist. “Patton, you lovely _bastard.”_

“Regardless,” Roman said, stepping closer. He put his hands on Logan's shoulders and ran his hands down his arms until their fingers met. “This is good. You get to have a good party. I assume, since even your best friend doesn't know your birthday, you haven't been one for parties.”

Logan looked down at their intertwined hands. He looked back up at Roman, straight faced. “Anyone who throws a party for their birthdays past 8 years old needs to reevaluate their priorities.”

“And everyone thought dating a theatre kid would make you less boring.” Roman stepped away and went over to his desk, where he picked up a blue envelope. “And besides, it gives me a chance to give you a proper gift. Because I really, _really--”_ he rushed up and kissed Logan's forehead-- “love you a lot.” He handed Logan the card.

“Oh, Roman, I really, really--” he started to open the envelope-- “hate parties.” 

Roman didn't say anything, he just watched with a grin on his face as he watched Logan open the envelope. He brought his fists up to his chin as he watched in glee.

When Logan opened the envelope all the way, he expected for a card of some sort to be in there, and maybe a gift card to Barnes and Noble as well (his favorite store). And there was indeed a card, but not the usual happy birthday card. There was a picture of one of those silhouette people figures; the kind you'd see on the door for the men's room. Instead of it being a black outline though, it also had a small set of glasses on it, drawn on with white marker. In the corner was the ace flag, much like the socks Logan owned. Clearly, it was a homemade card. Logan would never admit it, but it was cute.

“Read it out loud,” Roman said excitedly. 

Logan rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. “‘Let's ace-ess the situation.’” He looked up at Roman. “Do you _want_ to be broken up with?”

“Open it!”

Logan sighed, but did. Sadly, no gift card was inside. Instead, there were handwritten words in bold, large letters. He read those aloud too. “'It’s your birthday. A party is due. A day that is dedicated to you. You _represent_ nerdiness, and so wear a tie, and glasses as well, to help with your eye….sight.” When he looked up, he saw Roman smiling like a weirdo, and while he found it endearing, it also seemed creepy. “You wrote this?”

“Mmhm!” Roman nodded his head. “Now look at the back of it.”

Despite feeling a tad insulted by the nature of the poem, he couldn't help half smiling. It was a nice little rhyme. He flipped it over, and furrowed his brows when he saw what it said. “Clue one?” He looked at Roman once again, who was still smiling. “This is a clue? For what?”

“A scavenger hunt!!” Roman exclaimed. “I know you don't like parties, but you _do_ like puzzles.” He shot finger guns at Logan. “Right or wrong?”

Logan rolled his eyes, and tried to keep his composure. No matter that he was still in his boxers. “I...suppose...I could...enjoy a puzzle...every now and then.”

“Oh my god.” Roman scoffed. “You think I don't know about your secret Sudoku stash?”

Logan gasped. “Not my secret Sudoku stash!”

“OH yes! I know of your love of puzzles Mr. McCann. Which is why I've created this for you.” Logan started to speak, but Roman held up a finger to shush him. “And, before you even say it, I've spoken with all of your professors, and they've given me your missing work, which I'm going to do for you. So you have the whole day for it!”

Logan went quiet. Roman was right; he did enjoy puzzles. In fact, he would often do those escape rooms by himself as a challenge, and the clerk practically knew him by name. Down in Michigan, he still held the state record for quickest solve of a complicated search word puzzle.

Which didn't sound super fancy now that the thought came into his head, but it was still something he was proud of.

“Fine,” Logan said with a sigh. Roman rejoiced, pumping his fist in the air. He stopped when Logan put his hand up. “I'm only doing this because it's you, and because you put thought into it. Trust me, if it was a party, I wouldn't show.”

“To your own party?”

“You underestimate me.”

“Yeesh. Anyway!” Roman turned and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I have class, but you have a scavenger hunt to attend.” He tapped the card. “Figure out where you should go from here. First clue.”

With that, he was gone.

***

Logan decided to get dressed after Roman went for class. Afterwards, he picked up the card, trying to find a meaning in the words he was reading. 

“It’s your birthday. A party is due…” At first, he tried to take the first letter of each word and form a sentence, but that only gave him jumbled letters. He tried to take those jumbled letters and unjumble them to form a word, but that was fruitless as well.

Then he noticed that the word 'represent’ was underlined twice. Surely, that was a crucial word. But what did it mean? Represent. Represent what? Birthdays? Maybe there was a birthday representative the college had that Logan hadn't meant yet. But that was unlikely.

“Represent. Represent….representation. Repre...sentative.” Logan had started pacing back and forth across the dorm. Slow, deliberate steps. 

Minutes passed, and Logan was still coming up short. “Representative...of what?” He sat down on the edge of Roman’s bed, sighing. “Representation...for what?”

He started to think about, read, and say the word so much that it became meaningless to him. It started to look like it wasn't even a word of the English language. He read it in parts. Rep. Re. Sent. Rep. Re. Sent. Rep. Rep. Rep. Re. Re. Re. Sent. Sent. Sent. Was he looking for a scent of some kind? No, that didn't make any sense. Unless... Roman knew Logan's favorite scent. Which was unlikely. He probably wouldn't ever guess that it was mangos.

Now that he thought that, mangos wasn't the most obscure of scents.

Back to reading the word over and over again.

Represent. Represent. Rep. Re. Sent. Repre. Sent. Re. Present. Rep. Re. Rep. Re. Rep. Rep.

Rep!

Logan gasped, and closed the card so he could see the front of it. The men's room stick figure was still there, wearing its glasses. The ace flag was still in the corner. The words 'let’s ace-ess the situation’ were still written on the front. It all came together

If Roman was drawing Logan on the front of the card, it's likely that he would have drawn the figure with a tie. Logan wore a tie every day of his life. Sure, he wore glasses, but guess who else wore glasses? Sure, he was ace, but guess who else was ace? 

Patton. Who was an _HR Rep!_

“Now the pun makes sense!” Logan exclaimed aloud. Only Patton could come up with something like that. He should've guessed that Roman and Patton would be in cahoots with each other.

Logan slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed out the door, trying to ignore the paper cutout of a party hat on the doorframe. 

***

It was just now 8 in the morning (seeing as Roman had the great consideration of waking Logan up at the crack of dawn), so Patton would just be starting his shift at the HR counter. Sure enough, when Logan approached, he saw Patton assorting his things and setting down his folder. 

When he saw Logan, he broke out into a huge grin. He waved. 

“Mr. Callihan,” Logan said, feigning professionalism. Patton played along, but poorly. He still had the giant smile on his face.

“Mr. McCann.” He paused, trying to hold back a giggle, “I've heard tell that...It's your birthday.”

Logan nodded. “Your-- tell...is correct.”

“Well, on request of He Who Shall Not Be Named,” said Patton, reaching down behind his counter, “I am supposed to do three things.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.” When Patton brought his hands back up, he had a dark blue binder in one, and...nothing in the other. It was in a loose fist. “First,” Patton started, “I am supposed congratulate you on solving your first clue. So, congrats.”

Logan bowed ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

“Second, I am supposed to complete a congratulation ceremony.”

“Con….grat--?”

Logan was cut off by a fistful of glittery confetti being thrown at his face. He stumbled back a step at the suddenness of it. Because, usually, people weren't assaulted with confetti at 8 in the morning. He wiped it from his face. Thankfully, no one else was around to see that.

“That was courtesy of Roman,” Patton said.

“Yes,” Logan said as he picked confetti from his hair, “I figured.”

Patton gave Logan the binder. “This is your third thing. The complete scavenger hunt binder of clues.”

Logan eyed the binder. It was _beautiful._ “Oh mama. That's a nice binder.” 

“Each tab holds hints and instructions on how to complete each section of your hunt, so as to reach the end by tonight,” explained Patton.

Logan opened the binder. “There's a title page!” He looked closer. He gasped. “And it's _laminated!”_

The title read 'Logan’s Birthday Hunt Extravaganza.’ Then there was a subtitle near the bottom, in smaller font. It read 'By Roman M. Loman, Boyfriend Extraordinaire.’ And then, in even smaller print, there was a small note in parenthesis: ‘(You Owe Me)’.

Logan just chuckled. He flipped through some random pages, not really looking at the content. He was more admiring the craftsmanship behind it all. Roman had made a binder. It even featured Logan's favorite font. Merriweather. Playful enough to show employers that you can make compromises, but serious enough to show that it'll take a well informed debate to get there.

“All Roman,” said Patton. “Cool right?”

“Incredibly.”

“Well, get a move on!” Patton made a shooing motion with his hand. “You've got some work to do.”

“Yes, we certainly do,” said Logan. 

“We? It's just you who's doing this. Wait-- are you talking to the binder?”

Logan looked up from the binder, which he'd been stroking. Barely stroking. It was more of a caress. Not even a caress! More like a gentle pet. “What? No, never. What? No.” He paused. “Alright, let's go Liverne.”

“Is that the binder's name?” teased Patton.

“No!” Logan yelled indignantly. He ran off with the binder tucked carefully under his arm.


	14. The birthday, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I should have maybe made this a separate part, but oh well.

Logan was in a student lounge, in the corner on a booth. Usually, he found booths childish and pointless. Just use chairs! But, he needed the privacy to agonize over the clues he was given. 

Agonize wasn't the word. It was more like excitedly staring at all the sweet, sweet lamination jobs. 

“First clue,” he read out loud. “Introduction: You are a giant nerd.”

How nice.

“And,” Logan continued, “as giant nerds do, you read a lot of books. You're like a human library. I don't really pay attention to the kind of books you read, but I do know your favorite one.”

Logan turned the page to see if there was more to what was said, but there wasn't. With all the cascading tabs this binder had, the pages contained within them didn't have that much information. Well, what did he expect from clues? His first one was vague enough. Yet he was still able to figure out where he had to go. So this one probably still had enough in it to piece it together too.

He re-read the sentence. The word library stuck out to him as the place he needed to go. So he gathered his things and went.

*

The library was on campus, but was its own building. It had just now opened at 9. It was 9:15. A flat, bland thing on the outside, it was on the southern corner of campus. It was about a ten minute walk from the place Logan dormed, since there was a crosswalk that was a straight shot to the building.

From the outside, it wasn't much. Brown bricks, black glass door, some dying yellow flowers in the front, and a few tinted windows. It was two floors, but there were no books on the second floor, only a computer lab. It helped if you needed to print something out. 

But to Logan, it was a sanctuary. Don't get him wrong, being friends with Patton and dating Roman had their perks: he smiled more, laughed often, felt more at ease, and learned to do things outside of his comfort zone.

Like once, Roman dragged Logan and Patton to karaoke night at the rec center. Roman obviously stole the show with his disney songs, complete with voices and performances to go along with them. Patton sang his favorite Christmas carols despite it being March, and he wasn't half bad. His energy filled the room and he got everyone to sing along. With Logan, it took some coercion (quite a bit of coercion; Roman wound up getting the entire room to chant Logan's name), but he ended up going onstage eventually. He didn't like to sing, so he decided to rap. He was pretty good at it, but Roman thought he was better. This insinuated a rap battle between the two of them, which Logan completely dominated. The night ended with everyone yelling Logan's name--including Patton--and getting scolded by the night guard. Totally worth it.

But sometimes it got to be…a little much. Being around that much noise all the time sometimes tired him. So he often went to the library for some peace and quiet. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure if Roman even knew where the library was, so it was a plus. Also, it offered optimal study conditions, and had a plentiful amount of useful books. 

Also, it had a killer fiction section. All the books in that section were student donated, but it was still a favorite of his to peruse. The draw of used, loved, read over books was like a personal heaven to him. And though he internally cringed when he saw marks on the books, or dog eared pages, it was still signs that the book had been cherished.

Logan entered the library with binder in hand. He looked down at the clue he was given. **I don't really pay attention to the kind of books you read, but I do know your favorite one.** His favorite one. Maybe there was a clue in there.

He walked past the counter, and gave a small wave to the librarian on shift. 

She waved back. “Logan,” she said in a friendly tone.

“Lidia.” he half smiled at her and continued on his way to the fiction section.

He didn't even bother to read the signs at the tops of the shelves anymore. He just walked to where he knew the fiction books were waiting. And, as always, they were right where he left them. 

“Friends,” he said quietly, eyeing the books with a certain hunger. Roman called it The Book Look. Really, it was just because Logan loved to read, and he got excited at the prospect of being around so many books at once. He wanted to read them all (for a second time anyway). But he didn't have the time.

“Let's look,” he said to himself. He ran the pads of his fingers across the spines of the books, feeling for the one he needed. Each book had its own unique, subtle texture. Logan realized this. Some had smooth, hardcovers with thin spines. Some had rough, paperback covers that curled at the edges. Some had pieces of spine missing, and some were nearly brand new. It all depended on how its previous owner treated it.

He ran his hand along the third shelf from the bottom until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out of its spot at stared at the cover. He whispered the title out loud. “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie.” A pink sticky note was poking out of the top. He turned the page open to it. 

It was Roman’s handwriting. _Clue number 2, a present for you! For one of many, talk to Penny._

Penny was the other librarian that went on shift after Lidia. He must not have realized there were two of them when he made this scavenger hunt. No matter. Maybe Lidia knew about it anyway.

He went to the front desk with the binder and the book tucked under his arm. When he approached, Lidia smiled warmly at him. “Mr. McCann, checking out Ms. Christie once again?”

Logan offered a small smile back, but shook his head. “No, actually, not today. I hate to butt into your business, but I'm on this...sort of...scavenger hunt my boyfriend set up for me. And--” he held up the book and opened it to the sticky noted page-- “he said to talk to Penny. Penny isn't here, so, I was hoping maybe you knew something about it. He said one of my gifts would be up here at the counter.”

Nothing registered on Lidia's face for a few moments, but then her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yes! Penny did indeed mention something of the sort. Yes, they certainly did. Just let me…” Lidia reached down under the counter, and after a few moments, produced a paper bag. It was just a brown bag that had Logan's name on it. Not very large. But not small either. She handed it to Logan. 

“Happy birthday Logan,” Lidia said, winking. Then she offered to take his book. “I can restock that for you.”

Though Logan knew where to put it back, he handed it to her anyway, eyes locked on the bag. Afterwards, he went over and sat down at one of the empty tables. The top was folded over, with a piece of tape on it. He undid the tape, and opened it carefully. Inside was a package wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine. It looked like a book, felt like a book, and he was in a library. So, he figured it was a book.

He unwrapped it. 

“Sweet mother of books!” The entire library could hear him, and he had to put a hand over his mouth so as to not start screaming further words of joy. Words like, _How? What? Oh my GOD!_

It was a first edition, 1969 publishing year, black leather bound, fine conditioned, _signed_ copy, of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd!

He opened the cover, and it said, _From Agatha Christie._ In her hand writing. Not Roman’s. Not some randos. Hers! A sticky note was also in the cover. _;) Refer to part two of the binder, Specs. This is one of five._

Logan wrapped the book up carefully in the paper, and he slid it into the protective pocket of his satchel; the place he'd put that single rose all those months ago. Then, he opened the binder. Roman’s words were typed out in front of him on the next page.

**So, you've found the culprit, huh? The culprit being...the book, and also a good thing. You know what I mean by now. You know me. You know me very well. You know my interests. You know my favorite place, and you know my major. You know where we were when you couldn't admit how in love with me you were. These are your clues.**

Logan rolled his eyes, but got what Roman was implying. He had to go to the theatre. Where he fell for Roman--in front of Roman--and tried to confess his feelings, but failed. He wasn't quite sure if Roman meant the actual stage, the audience, or the hallway where he got mistaken for a crew member, but he was sure he would be able to figure it out once he got there. Thankfully he brought his keys with him in anticipation of needing to go out and get lunch. 

In the words of Rolo, let's go where many men have gone before.

***

The parking lot was empty once Logan arrived. The doors opened for him, however, despite it looking closed. 

He wasn't sure what he expected when he entered. Signs? More clues? Maybe the binder would help. He opened it again, and turned the page. Sure enough, there was a second page to the second part of the hunt, which read as followed.

**I'm assuming we're doing honor system now that you've figured out there's spoilers in here. As in, you have to solve each part before you move on to the next part. I guess you can refer to the binder if you're stuck, but I'm 100 percent sure that you won't get stuck because you're way smarter than me. And I'm the one who put this together, so…**

**Anyway, now that you're at the theatre, I'm going to need you to head to the auditorium. Remember when you fell off the stage? Me too. I forget what you fell on top of though…**

Tarps. Logan knew that Roman knew that, but of course, it was part of the hunt. The clue. He closed the binder, and headed to the auditorium.

It was as empty as it was the day he ran lines with Roman, and it smelled the same as well. The same, stale-ish, evermoving smell. He walked to the front of the seats, and on the stage, he saw something. It was about half his height, and covered with a tarp. Whatever it was, it was standing in the middle of the stage, a single spotlight on it. 

Logan looked around, as if he expected Roman to pop out or something. But it was empty. Quiet. He went up the few stairs and climbed the stage, moving closer to the tarp. 

Briefly, he looked out into the audience. And even though the seats were empty, and the house lights were up, and there was no music or curtain pulling or other actors, he still felt a fleeting pang of nausea. The thought of being in front of that many people at once, performing something in front of so many people...it was a skill he didn't have. Roman truly had a gift. Even if Logan didn't quite understand it.

Then he looked down in the orchestra pit. The drop from here to there was only about five or six feet. But it was a cement floor. Logan glared down at it, as if it was the floor's fault he fell that day.

But, in a way, he had to thank it. It all started in this room, after all. He and Roman. The crush, the show, the this and that. But, he had other things to focus on at the moment. It was already 11:30, and Logan was starting to get peckish.

He looked back at the tarp. Could it be the exact one he fell on top of? Perhaps. Regardless, he took hold of the edge of it and lifted it gently, revealing…

A half dead bouquet of roses. Logan quirked up an eyebrow at the some 24 roses. He referred to the binder, turning the page.

**I know what it looks like. But it's actually one of my favorite gifts of the five I got you. It doesn't seem like much, but tied around each rose is a note. Like the note you had tied around your rose.**

Logan looked at the roses. Sure enough, around each one was tied a small folded note. And each one had his name on it, and a date. He looked at the binder once more.

**It's probably creepy, now that I think about it. But, it honestly just became a routine to me. Twice a week I would go to Patton's room where I had this thing stored and...well...Just pick one up and read a note. I think you'll get the gist of what it is. Once you're done, grab some lunch, then turn to part three. It's probably afternoon now.**

Logan did as he was told, and took a note off one of the more alive roses. Opening it, he saw that it was dated as two days ago. It was in Roman’s handwriting, and it read: _For when Picani forgot his tie, so you gave him yours, and I pretended to be shocked seeing you without a tie, and you laughed. Full on laughed._

Logan remembered that. He had given his tie away as a joke, and the other students didn't seem very amused. Roman did though, which is why he played along with it.

He smelled the rose for a second, then opened another note, an older one this time. Dated over a month ago. The rose it was attached to was dead. The leaves drooped down and were crinkled. One touch and they'd turn to dust. The petals on the flower were black and curling at the edges, all the red nearly unsaturated. Logan read the note. 

_For when you talked to me for over two hours about this show called Battlestar Galactica. I had no idea what you were talking about, but watching you so excited was such a treat._

He read another, and something deep in his chest started to stir. Then another. And another.

_For when you took Patton out to dinner because I was sick, and he needed a friend._

_For when you FINALLY agreed to duet a disney song with me. Not in public, of course, but I count it as a win._

_For when you fell asleep reading your textbook._

Logan read all of them, standing there on the stage. And suddenly he felt like he was indeed the star of some show, because all of these notes, all of these moments, they were so...mundane. They meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. But the fact that Roman remembered each and every one, and bought a rose every time they happened, and put it all in a bouquet for when he finally found out Logan's birthday, it stirred something deep inside him.

He'd never tell Roman, but he teared up quite a bit. 

**

Logan managed to get the bouquet inside his back seat, glancing briefly at it before opening the binder to part 3.

**I call them For When’s. Cute right? I'm amazing. Anyway. Part four.**

With a small smile on his face, he closed the binder and started his car. He was hungry.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment?


End file.
